


In the Midnight Hour

by amidtheflowers



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Infidelity, Romance, Smut, minor kink exploration, temporary relationships with others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-05-16 06:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19312522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: “What happened?” Willow asks, concerned.Buffy slowly meets Willow’s stare, looking grim. “Spike is on a date.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OffYourBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OffYourBird/gifts).



> Hello, lovelies!  
> This story is a little birthday present for my twinnie, OffYourBird. She is one of the first folks in this fandom to reach out to me when I joined EF last summer, and I am so very lucky to be able to call her my friend. She's genuinely such a joyous and overwhelmingly positive force in my life that I simply could not write her a thing for one of her Challenges for her birthday! 
> 
> This story contains some temp Buffy/Other and Spike/Other, but if you know season 4 you probably knew that was coming (and given this challenge especially). I promise that it is brief and completely worth getting through, and I'd like to think some of y'all know me well enough by now to know I would never steer you wrong. Trust me, this is gonna be great :)
> 
> I wrote this back in February and completely forgot to transfer this over to AO3 from EF. Sorry for that!
> 
>  
> 
>   
> Banner by javajunkie!

** In the Midnight Hour **

**-:-**

A new song starts as Buffy walks inside the Bronze, pale fluorescent lights interspersed with strobe lighting that pulse to the beat of the music. The familiar scent of fried food and alcohol brings a smile to Buffy’s face, and she glances up tenderly at Riley. He smiles down at her.

“Do you see your friends?” Riley asks loudly over the music. Graham, Forrest, Kevin, and Jay stop behind them, scanning the crowd.

“Yep, right over there!”

It is hard not to spot Willow’s bright red hair seated at the center of the Bronze, accompanied by Xander and Anya. Buffy beams and gestures for Riley to follow.

Buffy catches Willow’s eye and waves, watching as Willow tenses up fractionally. Buffy knows that bringing the commandos along unannounced is probably a bit of an oversight, but figures the gang won’t mind too much. Especially once they get to know each other a bit, she knew it’d be no big.

The newness of her relationship with Riley, his life in the Initiative, and the stark realization that for the first time in her life Buffy does not have to be alone when fighting baddies, is a heady feeling. It is almost surreal, the liberation she gets by dating Riley. He is sweet, and funny, and looks at her like she is the best thing since sliced bread. It is intoxicating, and exactly what she needs in her life.

After the minor disaster that was Parker Abrams, Buffy had been halfway sure that her and relationships—that and any chance of adding sex to the fray—were unmixy things. Yet despite the Gentlemen, the lies, and her brief engagement to Spike—Buffy shudders—Riley is still smitten with her. She didn’t run him out.

And that is good. Very good.

The six of them reach Willow and Xander’s table and Buffy smiles brightly, if not a bit sheepishly. “Hi, all. Sorry about the late-itude.”

“Late? Really?” Xander doesn’t bother to mask his sarcasm. “Huh. Hadn’t noticed.”

Riley’s arm slings comfortably around Buffy’s waist. “Hope you don’t mind us tagging along.”

Willow forces a kind smile. “No, no of course not. The more the…more.”

Riley, taking Willow’s words in stride, gestures to his buddies. “This is Graham. This is Forrest. That’s Kevin. And that’s Jay in the back.”

Buffy watches Willow and Xander smile tightly at the boys, following them with their gaze as they head to the bar to grab drinks. She barely gets a word in before Xander and Anya whisk away to the dancefloor, leaving Buffy and Willow to sit in an awkward silence at the table.

Buffy nods in Anya’s direction. “Anya seems a bit on edge.”

Willow shrugs. “She’s a little angsty around commando types. Ex-demon issues.”

“Oh.” Buffy points at the bar where the guys have gathered around for their drinks. “You know, I didn’t think that you would mind. Riley and the guys were throwing an impromptu celebration in my honor and made it, like, impossible not to invite them.”

Willow’s eyes widen. “Oh. That’s neat about the celebrating. I just thought this was supposed to be, you know, just us. Just the Scooby corps., you know. I mean, I could have invited somebody else if I knew it was an open free-for-all.”

The shimmering bubble of euphoria Buffy has been riding on begins to shrink, and Buffy frowns. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. My  _total_ bad.” She ticks up her eyebrow. “So who did you want to invite?”

“What?”

“You said you wanted to invite someone.” 

Willow stammers and shakes her head before quickly diverting. “So, uh—what are we celebrating?”

A slow grin spreads on her lips and Buffy leans in closer, lowering her voice. “I’m in. The Initiative, that is. You should see their headquarters, Will—we’re talking Grand Canyon-sized.”

Somehow this has the opposite effect on Willow. Instead of looking overjoyed, her frown deepens. “That’s really…again, I say ‘neat’. So what do you mean, exactly? You’ve joined them?”

Buffy makes a face. “No, not exactly. It just means that when I patrol I’ll have a heavily armed team backing me up.” Buffy gives a wide smile. “Plus, boyfriend going to work with me. Big extra perk.”

Willow stares at Buffy for a moment, hesitant concern clear in her eyes. “Buffy, do you really think this is a good idea? I mean, don’t you think you’re rushing things a little?”

“Rushing?” Buffy repeats. “I…don’t you like Riley?”

Willow shrugs a little. “N-not with Riley. Not completely. But the Initiative. I mean, there’s a bunch of stuff we still don’t know.”

“I know that.” Then, “What did you mean by ‘not completely Riley’?”

Irritation flares through Buffy when Willow glances away, finding the words Buffy is certain she doesn’t want to hear.

“It’s just, it’s so fast. W-which is fine! But Buffy,” Willow softens her voice, staring at Buffy with quiet sympathy, “we hardly know anything about him other than he’s in a military program and somehow him and his boys are super-powered enough to take on full-fledge demons—something only a Slayer should be able to do.”

Buffy shakes her head, Willow’s words only serving to agitate her further. “I’m sorry. I still don’t see how this has anything to do with why I shouldn’t be happy right now. I have an amazing boyfriend. He’s normal, Willow.  _Normal_.” Willow quietly shakes her head. Buffy’s irritation flares to anger. “After everything, you should know why I want this. Why I  _need_ this.”

“And I do. I really, really do, I swear, Buffy.” Willow implores, reaching out to brush her fingers against the back of Buffy’s hand. “It’s just happening so fast. We don’t even know the Initiative’s ultimate agenda. I mean, okay, yeah, they—they neuter vampires and demons. But then what? Are they gonna reintegrate them into society? Get them jobs as bagboys at Walmart?”

Willows words reverberate through Buffy like stones through glass, shattering the wall of denial Buffy had carefully built for herself. “I know. I know, but…Riley’s different.”

A light in Willow’s eyes dims when she realizes she won’t get through to Buffy. “Buffy…”

Buffy jumps to her feet and rakes her hands through her hair.  “God, Willow, what do you want from me? I can’t have anything? Angel left me.  _Left_ me. He—he tells me to move on, find someone normal. Yeah, the first go-round of  _that_  went well. Then I finally— _finally_ —find someone who fits that bill I’m supposed to be looking for. But that’s still not good enough. What is it, then? Should I try working things with Parker? Or maybe I should find Spike and ask to continue our engagement? Tell me what I should do to make my life even more humiliating, please.”

“Still so sorry about that,” Willow mumbles in a small voice. “I told you I’d do a forgetting spell if you wanted.”

“No. No spell. The last thing I need is to forget something that Spike can hold over me later.”

“He wouldn’t…” at Buffy’s hard look, Willow wilted again. “Yeah, no, he would. Repeatedly.”

Silence rings between them for a few moments. Buffy exhales slowly and sits back down, staring at her lap.

Tentatively, Willow speaks again. “I know I’m the last person who should give you dating advice. I’m just worried, Buffy. B-but whatever decision you make, I know me, Xander, or anyone else, don’t have a say in it, so don’t worry.” She pauses, worrying her lower lip. “I just don’t want you doing something because it’s something…someone once told you is what’s right for you. You should pick someone who’s right for you.”

“Spike.”

Willow’s mouth parts, a little shocked. “Um, I guess if that’s what …I…huh?”

“Spike,” Buffy repeats, pointing across the Bronze towards the dancefloor. “He’s hunting again.”

Willow follows Buffy’s line of sight and pauses at the view of Spike, standing off to the side on the dancefloor. His head is tilted and a slow smile is on his lips as his hands find a home on a smiling girl’s waist. “Are you sure that’s…he—he has a chip now. He can’t hurt anyone, remember?”

Buffy’s jaw tightens and she slips from her chair, standing up again. “Or maybe the chip stopped working.”

All thoughts of Riley and Willow’s warning melt away as Buffy marches towards Spike. He catches sight of her when she’s a few feet away and he doesn’t even have the decency to look panicked, let alone afraid.

The bastard  _smirks_.

“Well, well,” Spike drawls as Buffy stops in front of him and the girl he’s got his hands on. “If it isn’t Saint Slayer.”

“Spike.” Buffy’s tone is biting. “Get your hands off of her.”

His eyes widen a fraction but it flits away immediately. Spike’s smirk deepens, a challenge in his eyes. “Afraid I’m gonna get myself a midnight snack?”

“I swear to  _god_ if you hurt her—”

“Um, hey. Sorry.” The girl in question steps out of Spike’s arms and props her hands on her hips. “But, am I missing something? Are you two dating?”

Buffy’s expression contorts with disgust as Spike lets out a choking noise.

“No,” Buffy replies tersely, turning to the girl. She has rich brown hair and deep set eyes that seem to glow, and an odd feeling rises inside of Buffy. She quickly pushes it down. “But he’s dangerous, and you should stay far away from him.”

To Buffy’s complete shock both the girl and Spike snort. “Slayers,” Spike mutters to the girl, who agrees with an eye roll and a soft smile.

“I know what he is,” the girl explains to Buffy. “I’m an empath demon.”

Buffy blinks. Her lips part but no sound comes out for a moment. Then another. “Oh.”

“I appreciate the concern. I really do! But…” She shrugs a little helplessly then looks at Spike again.

They share a secretive little smile.

And just like that, blood starts rushing behind her ears and Buffy grabs hold of Spike’s elbow. “Excuse us for a sec,” Buffy hisses as she drags Spike far away, ignoring his furious complaints or the way he tries digging his heels.

“Get your grubby hands off o’ me—”

When they reach the far end of a wall Buffy rounds on Spike. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What crawled up your knickers this evening?” Spike barks back.

“Shut up. I know you’ve got an angle here, Spike. What is it?”

Spike rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it’s called getting bloody shagged tonight. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Buffy stares at him, horrified.

“ _Shagged?_ ”

Spike glares at her. “You think ‘cause I’ve a chip in my brain I’ve lost my pleasures? I’m still a man.”

Buffy smiles disdainfully. “You’re not a man, Spike. You wouldn’t know the first thing about that.”

A half-smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and suddenly Spike’s demeanor shifts from defensive to relaxed. Spike leans in close, noses nearly touching, his eyes glittering with mischief.

“Oh I disagree, Slayer.” Buffy stiffens at the dark, rich tenor of his voice, low and simmering as his cool breath fans her face. His next words make her shiver. “Seem to recall a warm, squirming blonde in my lap not two weeks ago with her tongue down my throat.” Spike rolls his hips forward in a thrust, thumbs under his belt and his tongue curling against his teeth. “You know  _intimately_  just how much a man I am.”

Heat spreads across Buffy’s cheeks. “Bring that day up again and I will kill you, neutered or not.”

Spike smiles. Buffy turns away and catches sight of Riley pushing through the crowd, searching for her. “We’re not done here,” Buffy warns him.

Spike lets his eyes travel over her before giving her a two-fingered salute and heading back to the dancefloor. A burning sensation swells in her chest when she watches him reach the brown-haired girl, grinning and linking his arms around her.

Buffy turns away sharply. She bypasses Riley entirely, not ready to talk to him when so much was racing through her mind. She returns to the table to sit with Willow.

“What happened?” Willow asks, concerned.

Buffy slowly meets Willow’s stare, looking grim. “Spike is on a date.”

**-:-**

Buffy is inexplicably furious for the remainder of the night.

Riley leaves with the commandos on a mission, and Buffy declines to go with them.

**-:-**

“Buffy,” Giles starts, already removing his glasses to regard her curiously. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Spike. Dating. This is of the bad.”

“Er, right. And that is because…?”

“He could hurt someone!” Buffy exclaims. How is Giles not getting this very obvious thing? “Giles, we can’t let him get away with this.”

Giles replaces the glasses on the bridge of his nose and folds his arms over his chest. “And what do you propose we do about it?”

“That’s what you’re for. I say the thing and you look things up and we have a Scooby discussion where we come up with a solution to—”

“To stop Spike from seeing women?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Did he hurt the demon girl?”

“No, but what if he wants to hook up with a human girl? That’s dangerous, Giles.”

“Has his chip started to malfunction?”

“Well…no.”

“Has he made any more threats?”

Buffy rolls her eyes. “Nothing more varied than usual.”

“Then I’m failing to see the issue here.” Giles shakes his head. “I understand you’re concerned, but right now there’s nothing we can do about Spike in any regard. Including prohibiting him from…consorting with women if he chooses to.”

Buffy shakes her head, agitated. “This can’t be right.”

“Vampires are social creatures. It is natural for them to seek companionship just as humans will.” Giles shrugs rather matter-of-factly. “His behavior is not abnormal, considering that prior to his return to Sunnydale, Spike had been in a relationship for more than a hundred years.”

Frustration mounts inside Buffy and she turns away, glaring out of Giles’s living room window. “So we just let him… _date_?”

This time when Giles removes his glasses, he leaves them off with a quiet sigh. “When I was a Fyarl demon I ran into Spike. He understood the Fyarl language and helped me—and he was with a girl, the very same you saw at the Bronze, if your description of her is accurate.”

Buffy turns back to face him. “And?”

“And, nothing. She was simply there. They’d been having a discussion before seeing me. And no, there was no conspiring to kill, no, er—chipectomy. I honestly think he was with her because he wanted to be.”

Buffy frowns and looks away. Giles looks at her seriously. “Demon or not, Buffy, your job as the Slayer is not to dictate how or with whom Spike has relations. I advise you not to interfere with this. God knows, we can find some use of him yet. Alienating him further would be unwise.”

“Fine.” Buffy grits out. She grabs her jacket and heads for the front door. “But when dead girls start popping up again, you’ll know why.”

**-:-**

Buffy stands beside Riley in the small clearing with a grim expression. She doesn’t understand why the Initiative is so intent on retrieving the Polgara demon alive. Why its arm is important enough that they were given to orders for it to be unharmed. ‘For science’ Walsh had mentioned, but  _what_ science? Willow’s words unwittingly come back to Buffy. What exactly is the Initiative program’s goal in Sunnydale?

She also doesn’t fully know how she feels about taking orders like this. While Buffy had wanted this, wanted to be part of the Initiative—be closer to Riley—letting them strip away her authority as they dismantle the demon community in Sunnydale doesn’t sit well in her gut.

And she wants to know what Walsh is up to.

“Buffy? You okay?” Riley peers down at her with concern.

Buffy forces a smile. “Peachy.”

“Okay.” Riley waits a moment. “It’s just, ever since the Bronze you’ve been…”

“What?” Buffy turns her full attention on Riley.

Riley takes half a step back. “Nothing bad! Just, distant. Wanted to know if it was something I did.”

Guilt swarms through Buffy and she sighs, dropping her defensive stance. “It’s not you. I’m…”

“Please tell me this isn’t an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ moment.” Riley smiles shyly, and Buffy remembers how that usually charms her. 

“Not in the way you think.” Buffy smiles sheepishly. “But it really isn’t you. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Buffy glances down at the grass, digging in the soil with her booted toe. “Some answers would be great.”

“With what?” Riley frowns at her. “The Initiative? Buffy, you already know everything.”

“No I don’t. There’s a lot I don’t know, and that’s a problem.”

Riley lowers his weapon and takes her lightly by the arm. “You know what you need to, just like I know what  _I_  need to. That’s how military ops work,” he says gently.

Buffy shrugs out of his grasp. “I’m not military. I’m the Slayer. And I need to know about anyone who comes in my town with a big fat secret to hide that nobody wants to admit to.”

Riley’s gentle look drops, and he scowls at her, taken aback by her behavior. “Well that’s not going to happen, so stand down.”

Buffy’s jaw clenches furiously.

When the Polgara demon bursts through the clearing Buffy charges in headfirst, barring any commando from interfering. Riley watches in shock as Buffy incapacitates it in seconds.

Panting heavily, Buffy readjusts her jacket and moves away from the Polgara lying still on the ground.

“You broke its arm,” a commando says faintly.

Buffy ignores the bewildered look on Riley’s face as she passes by him. “My mistake.”

**-:-**

“What’s she doing here?”

Buffy stands beside Willow in the foyer to Giles’s apartment. Xander and Anya are flanked beside Giles as he holds a scalpel to Spike’s back. Spike, who is laid out on a table, and is holding hands with the girl from the Bronze.

“She’s my girlfriend you nit,” Spike growls through his teeth, stifling a flinch of pain as Giles digs into his shoulder.

“Leda was with Spike when the Commandos attacked them,” Giles explains as he withdraws the scalpel from Spike’s flesh.

“He covered me when they shot at us,” Leda explains, gazing softly at Spike before dropping his hand and standing up. Smiling, she holds out her hand to Buffy. “We never properly introduced ourselves. I’m Leda.”

“Buffy.” Buffy shakes her hand. Leda doesn’t immediately let go. She tilts her head and stares at Buffy, a soft look in her eyes. Unnerved, Buffy snatches her hand back. “How do we know we can trust her? This is inside Scooby headquarters and you just let a stranger in.”

Giles leans away from Spike’s back. “W-well, they came to us for help. The Initiative is hunting the both of them.”

Buffy’s jaw ticks at the mention of the Initiative. “Last night?”

“Got us when we were headin’ home. Had a bag o’ smokes and blood that was left behind,” Spike tells her before grunting in pain. “Won’t be seeing those again any time soon.”

“My books got left behind too,” says Leda.

“Buffy, weren’t you with the commandos last night?” Willow asks.

Buffy nods. “Yeah. Clearly they do more than one mission at a time.” She shakes her head. “What do they even want with Spike? He’s already chipped.”

“It’s like I said,” Willow replies, looking at Spike unsurely. “They’re doing things without explaining why they’re doing it or what their plan is. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“I do. I don’t trust them.” Buffy glances between her friends. “But I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Leda says sincerely. Buffy nods awkwardly and walks to the kitchen, suddenly keen on avoiding Scooby onslaught that she doesn’t feel like talking about.

Buffy doesn’t realize Leda has followed her into the kitchen until after she grabs a bottle of water from Giles’s fridge. Buffy startles and Leda holds her hands out.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine. Fridge is all yours,” Buffy says as she starts heading out of the kitchen.

“You know, we’re in the same microeconomics class.”

Buffy turns around. Leda gives her a weak smile. “I was supposed to take it a few semesters ago, but you know how it goes. I was surprised the Slayer was going to UC Sunnydale.”

“You knew who I was before we met?”

Leda stares at her, disbelieving. “You’re the Slayer, Buffy. The entire demon community knows who you are.” She shrugs a little. “I’m not of the growliest variety but I knew who you were the second you walked into the lecture hall.”

Buffy frowns and leans against the kitchen wall. “Why are you going to college here? I mean—my first roommate was a demon too, but it didn’t seem like her family was very simpatico with her decision.”

“Just because I’m not completely human doesn’t mean I can’t get an education.”

Buffy lowers her gaze. “That’s not what I meant. Sorry. I’ve just never…”

Leda nods with understanding. “There’s a large demon population here. I mean, Hellmouth, right? We’re not all bad. Some of us are just trying to get by like the rest of the world. And since people here seem to kind of accept that Sunnydale is a bit different, we feel safer living here than any other city in California.”

Buffy never thought the words ‘Sunnydale’ and ‘safe’ could go hand in hand like that, but she can sort of see Leda’s point.

“I understand.” Buffy pauses. “Can I ask you something?”

“About Spike.” Leda nods. Buffy stares at her, surprised. Leda smiles. “Empath demon.”

“Right. Why are you with him? You’re not—I don’t know, depraved, or crazy, or anything like his recent exes.”

“He’s fun,” Leda shrugs. “Vampires with some years on them are fun to be around. There’s so much there, you know?”

“He’s a killer,” Buffy says with disbelief. “You know that, right? Spike has been killing for over a hundred years.”

Leda presses her lips together thoughtfully. “You’re not a demon, Buffy. Even if I tried explaining it to you, you wouldn’t understand. But that’s not your fault, and that’s okay.”

Buffy falters, not knowing how to reply to that. “I face demons every night,” she finally says. “I know their true nature. Don’t tell me I don’t understand.”

Leda smiles a little and nods. “Okay.” Just as she turns to leave, she pauses to give Buffy a sidelong glance. “It’s not my place, but, the thing you’re worrying about? It’ll be over soon. Promise.”

Buffy stares after Leda’s retreating back. With a jerky movement, Buffy snaps off the top of her water bottle and takes a large gulp, resolving never to allow Leda near her again.

**-:-**

“You know, Spike having girlfriends that aren’t nut jobs like Drusilla or airheads like Harmony just feels…wrong,” Xander mentions idly as he takes a sip of his drink.

“You’d think he’d lay low what with the commandos after him,” Willow notes. They’re leaning against the balcony rail in the Bronze, watching the swarm of bodies below dancing to the music.

Buffy glowers as she watches Spike lean in closely to a dark-haired girl before him. Not Leda—that ended some weeks ago—but a new girl, soft and supple, who was laughing at whatever inane joke Spike had whispered in her ear.

“It’s sick,” Buffy says shortly, her voice clipped. “Who does he think he is? All these demon girls have no idea what a pathetic loser Spike actually is.”

“We should tell them,” Willow resolves with a sharp nod of her head. “Force him to be single like the rest of us. That’ll be payback for all the times he tried to bite us.”

“Hey, un-single guy here,” Xander raises his hand. “And I dunno. He was my roommate for a while. I kinda got used to him being around, you know? If you ignore the fangs and the wanting to kill us, he’s”—Buffy gives him a hard look, and Xander backtracks—“terrible. Just terrible, he should’ve been staked ages ago.”

“B-but he’s been helping us lately, like with the Eldar demons? And that demon ritual gang from Naples that showed up last week?” Willow adds. “I mean, he’s evil, he did hold a broken bottle to my face, but—”

“But nothing,” Buffy cuts her off. “This is not up for debate. Just because Spike’s giving us information does not mean he’s reformed! He’s only doing it because he’s on a leash now and needs the cash.”

“Buff’s right,” Xander agrees quickly. “I know  _I_  didn’t come to the Bronze to debate the moral ambiguity of an undead killer.”

Buffy smiles slightly. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m being Cranky Girl today. Things have been hard lately, and confusing. And Riley…”

“How’re things with Riley?” Xander asks.

“Things are…tense.” Buffy shrugs, peering down at her hands wrapped around the balcony railing. “It hasn’t been the same since the argument over the Polgara demon. And all the question marks around the Initiative don’t help either.”

“I’m sorry,” Willow says sincerely, rubbing Buffy’s shoulder comfortingly. “Have you two talked about it?”

“Not really. We try, but everything’s so awkward…” Buffy bites her lower lip. “The cracks are really starting to show.”

Xander and Willow do the thing where they try sneakily exchanging looks behind Buffy’s back thinking she doesn’t notice. Buffy exhales loudly and pushes away from the balcony. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

She walks down the staircase and makes her way to the bar, letting the music wash over her in hopes to drown out the unease churning inside her. When her drink arrives, Buffy barely has her fingers around the glass before a voice enters behind her.

“Pepsi neat? Think in another month or two they’ll let you ride the big roller coasters, Slayer.”

Buffy turns slowly, a thrill going through her. Was it wrong that she’d hoped he would try to get to her? “Me? Look at you. Think they’ll give you a free AARP membership by now?”

Spike smirks and nods at her drink. “They gave you the wrong glass, come to think of it—should be one of those sippy cups.”

“Maybe they give denture cream and a hearing aid when you sign up—”

“ _I_ need the hearing aid? Should I remind you what song you picked for our first dance?”

“I told you it was the spell!”

Buffy grabs her drink and attempts to move around him. Spike moves quickly and forces her to stop in front of him. “Why so quick to leave? Thought we could catch up as old friends do. Maybe give you a chance to threaten another one of my girlfriends.” He nods behind him where the girl he’d been dancing with stood, seemingly waiting for Spike to bring back drinks.

“We’re not friends,” Buffy glowers up at him. “And I didn’t threaten her. We just…talked.”

“You gave her the ‘good demon, bad demon’ speech, Slayer. Sounded like a threat.”

“Then she told you wrong. I didn’t say anything to her, so don’t try blaming me for getting dumped.”

“It was a mutual end, not that you care.”

“I really don’t.” Buffy’s smile is sarcastic.

Spike snorts. “Where is Captain Cardboard, anyway?” Spike glances around the club. “Don’t tell me you scared another one off.”

Buffy’s eye twitches. “Shut up.”

She really doesn’t know why she’s bothering with this, why she hasn’t stormed off yet, instead of supplying him with endless fodder to burn her. Especially when tonight, for whatever reason, Spike is relentless. “What was it this time? Squeezed the boy too hard again?”

A furious flush blooms over Buffy’s cheeks. She and Riley are galaxies away from the physical intimacy stage, somewhere they’d been on a fast track towards but has since halted to a screaming stop. It’s a reminder that has her both relieved and slightly embarrassed at Spike’s insinuation. “Get out of my way.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t tumbled in bed with Wonderbread yet? Oho,” a grin curls Spike’s mouth. His eyes are positively gleaming. “Now  _that’s_ a break in tradition. Usually you get horizontal the first chance—”

Buffy pops Spike in the nose with a satisfying crunch. He shouts in pain and reels back, clutching his nose. Buffy doesn’t even spill her drink.

“You’re disgusting,” Buffy bites out. “And conversation is over.” She turns away.

Spike smirks and licks the trail of blood that lands on his lips, straightening. “Or maybe there’s just something about you that makes them want to leave.”

Buffy turns back around, anger and hurt prickling through her. “You’re one to talk. Your girlfriend of a century dumped you—twice. Or from what I remember, she dumps you pretty much whenever Angelus is near, right?”

“Dru’s history,” Spike says shortly, though she can see that she’s starting to get to him. His jaw’s ticking. “’Sides, I’ve moved on. The Hellmouth has such sweet morsels to choose from, you see. The things they’ll do…”

“Things you trick them into. If they had any idea what you really are—”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Slayer. I don’t have to do a damn thing.” He leans in closer, a challenge in his gaze. “They know what I am from the start. See, I don’t have to lie to ‘em. Can’t say the same for you.”

That one hurts. “What do you want from me, Spike? Seriously, are you just trying to get punched again?”

“Told you already.” Spike shrugs. “Wanted to talk. Doesn’t hurt that the girl I’m seeing loves to get jealous when I talk to other girls. Gives ‘er a bit of a kick in bed, if you know what I mean.”

Buffy stares at Spike, bewildered, as he flashes a devilish little smile at his date. Buffy jerks back a little when the girl turns to glare intensely at Buffy.

Buffy has had enough.

“Let me make something clear, then, since we’re talking buddies now.” She leans into him suddenly and this startles Spike, not expecting it. She grips him roughly by the collar. “You may have everyone else fooled by The Good Vampire act, but I’m not. And I promise you, the second—the  _second_ ,” Buffy’s grip tightens, and Spike flinches, “I hear you got yourself a midnight snack from one of the girls you’re dating, I’ll have a stake ready just for you.”

She lets him go and watches Spike straighten his collar. He gives her a lingering look just before leaving. “How wrong you are, Slayer. I’m almost sorry for it.”

**-:-**

She almost doesn’t hear Giles when he says it.

“They found a dead girl outside the Bronze.”

Buffy’s hand grips the receiver tightly. “When?”

“Shortly after midnight last night. Two puncture wounds; a vampire’s bite. We can’t be sure if she’s been turned, b-but—”

“The girl,” Buffy cuts him off impatiently. “What does she look like?”

She hears the snap of a newspaper, indicating Giles has flipped a page. “Er—dark brown hair, early twenties…”

Spike.

Spike killed his girlfriend.

She fucking  _knew_ it.

“Buffy, let’s not assume so quickly. Spike cannot kill anymore.”

Buffy realizes she’s said the words aloud, and from the flustered tone of Giles’s voice, he’d heard the cursing bit too.

“It was him. I saw the girl last night, Giles, I warned him.” Buffy’s hand curls into a tight fist. “I told you he’d find a way around the chip and he did. I told you.”

“Buffy—”

“This ends now.”

She hangs up the receiver and grabs her keys, heading out of the dorm.

There’s a lot of emotion spinning through Buffy but she shoves it all aside in favor of determination. Walk in the crypt, pull out the stake, stab him in the heart. Easy.

It runs through her mind like a mantra as she crosses through Restfield. It’s not quite dusk but the sun is dipping below the horizon. Her senses start tingling like crazy as she nears the crypt. She can feel Spike inside; she knows it’s him. These tinglies are intrinsic of him.

Buffy wrenches open the iron door and steps down into the crypt, not bothering to shut the door behind her. The interior is dusty but slightly furnished, bits and bobs scattered errantly along the concrete floor, as if Spike had managed to haul them in but hadn’t gotten around arranging the room yet.

The sound of low growling gets her attention. Mouth set in determination, Buffy retrieves the stake from her waist and holds it poised in her hand. The sound is coming from the right end of the crypt hidden behind a wall. As she gets closer the sound intensifies, and she moves faster when she hears the sound of whimpering.

Buffy rounds the corner and stops.

Atop a large sarcophagus is the brown-haired girl from the Bronze, very much alive.

And on top of her is Spike, fucking her hard.

Buffy stares. She can’t stop staring. The sounds—high gasps, loud, wet smacks of flesh against flesh; sinew of muscle rippling along Spike’s back, the pop of his shoulder as he adjusts himself over the girl—the sounds echo in the room as they writhe together in passion. It’s mesmerizing.

Her instinct is to turn and flee but she’s rooted to the spot. Buffy’s mind begs her to leave. Their eyes are closed and it would be so easy to leave. So easy. They haven’t even noticed her, not yet.

The girl is arching in ecstasy but it’s Spike she’s looking at. A side of him that she never thought she’d see—the frenzied fucking side that’s pounding a girl into next Tuesday. And it shames her because the sight, the sound of his grunts, and the way he’s biting his lip as his hips rock, has arousal flooding through Buffy.

Spike lifts his head and their eyes connect.

Buffy’s mouth parts in surprise. Her eyes dart away, jerking a little like she’s about to take a step back, but she doesn’t. Her gaze return to his.

They’re crystalline blue swathed in rich darkness and they’re penetrating right through her.

He stares at her. She stares at him.

In the next moment his hips twist, grinding his pelvis, and it’s Buffy who trembles.

Spike doesn’t say a word. His lips curl back and he turns back to his girlfriend, fucking her harder, hips snapping faster, until she seizes and lets loose a pleasured scream the same moment the stake in Buffy’s hand clatters to the ground.

Finally her legs remember how to move, and Buffy runs.

**-:-**

She doesn’t stop running until she reaches her dorm. Willow isn’t there and Buffy collapses against the door, shaking.

Locking the door, Buffy throws off her shoes and wriggles out of her jeans. Her panties are hastily pulled down and Buffy clambers on her mattress, face buried in her pillow as she rapidly circles her clit. She orgasms within seconds and writhes on the sheets, crying out hoarsely, her body clenching desperately for the feel of a hard cock that isn’t there. Shuddering, Buffy’s knees slide down until her tummy is flat against the bedspread.

Sparks of bliss are still coursing through her when she forces herself to roll over. Blinking hard, Buffy shifts her legs and stares between her thighs. A small pool of wetness is on the bed.

She’s never…it’s never been that…

Stumbling to her feet, Buffy pulls on a pair of shorts and methodically starts gathering her things to shower.

**-:-**

“Giles.”

“Yes?”

“It wasn’t Spike.”

“Oh. Er, that’s good.”

“I found the real vamp at the Bronze. He’s dead now.”

“That’s…that’s very good, Buffy. Thank you for telling me.” A slight pause. “Are you alright?”

“Yep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The line goes dead and Giles stares at his receiver, baffled.

**-:-**

They manage five full days before running into each other. Buffy’s on her third vamp when Spike bursts through a line of trees, a very large demon in tow.

The vampire dusts and Buffy yanks back the stake. An ear-splitting growl fills the air and Buffy spins around, catching sight of Spike tugging ineffectually at an axe that’s embedded in the demon’s thick hide. It’s double Spike’s height with more rows of pointy teeth than Buffy can count.

“Little help here, Slayer?” Spike grunts as he tugs hard at the axe.

Buffy pockets her stake. “I think you’ve got it under control.”

“I bloody well do  _not_. Oi!”

The demon picks the axe out of its skin and flicks it away like a toothpick. It grabs Spike by the throat and lifts him at eye level, squeezing Spike’s neck.

And keeps squeezing. Buffy realizes he’s one more squeeze away from being a broken blow-pop and jumps forward, grabbing the discarded axe and swinging it down hard on the demon’s arm.

Spike staggers back as Buffy swings the axe again and rams it in the demon’s neck, striking it dead.

Panting, Buffy brushes off her jacket and tosses the axe back at Spike. He catches it easily and holds it aloft. There’s something in his eyes as he stares at her and Buffy backs away, turning to leave.

“Buffy.”

She stills. He’s used her name. She can’t remember a time when he had before now.

“Don’t,” Buffy says, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just don’t.”

“No I bloody well won’t.”

Buffy turns to face him. His eyes are dark in a way that’s now familiar to her. The thought alone puts her on edge.

“It was a mistake. My mistake, and I’ll even apologize for it. I shouldn’t have barged in. Let’s—let’s not do the thing where we make a thing of it.”

Spike stares at her, when a long, slow smile spreads on his mouth—a very bad, admittedly full mouth. “And what thing would that be, love?”

Buffy’s eyes widen. “Y…you know. The thing. That we’re not talking about.”

“You mean where you walked into my crypt and watched me fuck a girl to completion?”

“ _Shhhhh!_ ” Buffy glances wildly around and shoves Spike against a tree. “I just said we’re not talking about that!”

“Yeah, an’ I never agreed.” Spike’s tongue curls in his mouth, and Buffy realizes that maybe roughly handling Spike and putting her hands all over him wasn’t the smartest play. “Mm, baby, do it again.”

Buffy yanks her hands back. “You’re disgusting.”

“Says the girl who watched me fuck a girl—”

“ _Gargh_ —stop! God.” Buffy presses her hand to her forehead. “What will it take for you to shut up and never bring that up again?”

A delighted little smile lights up Spike’s face. “You serious?”

“Deadly.”

“Mmm…” He tilts his head thoughtfully. “Could do with more smokes, maybe a lifetime supply of butcher’s blood courtesy of you lot…”

“And we never. Speak of it. Again.  _Never_.”

He’s relishing this. “You’ve to promise me this deal is solid, Slayer. You back out and there’s no deal.”

“So long as it’s never brought up again—or else you’ll find yourself fitting in an ashtray.”

“Fine.”

“Then fine.”

Spike leans in, looking her straight in the eye. “Tell me you got off.”

Buffy’s stomach flips and she steps back. “What?”

“After you left. Tell me if you got home, snuck in your girly little bed, and touched yourself until you got off.”

“We are not talking about this. God Spike, what is wrong with you?”

Spike’s smile turns mischievous. “Then I’ll be sure to talk about how you stood and watched. And not for a short while like a good girl would’ve, no. You were there for a while.”

So he’d sensed her. Not immediately, maybe, but enough to gather the truth. “Did she…did your girlfriend…”

“None the wiser,” Spike answers swiftly. He lifts taunting a brow. “Still haven’t answered the question, pet, an’ I’ve just answered yours.”

“I hate you.” Buffy’s voice trembles slightly.

“Mutual.”

She closes her eyes, tightly. “Yes.” Opening them slowly, she takes in Spike’s stunned look, as if he hadn’t seriously thought she would answer. “Yes, I did. Right after. Happy now?”

She expects laughter, to make fun of her, anything that could make this more humiliating than it already was. Instead, he just smiles. Albeit it was another slow, toe-curling kind of smile. And just when the hell did she start thinking of Spike in any capacity as toe-curling?

“No, but I’m gettin’ there.” Spike pushes away from the tree and heads off, shoving his hands in his duster. “You’ve got a deal, Slayer. Not another word.”

She watches his retreating back for several moments with an unnamed feeling lodged in her throat. Before he can get too far, she suddenly calls his name.

“Spike.”

He stops, turning to glance at her questioningly.

“Can…can it…”

When she doesn’t elaborate, Spike frowns. “What?”

Buffy swallows thickly, both terrified and curious. “Can it…always be like that?”

Spike’s brows furrow. It takes him a bit, but she sees the moment he understands what she’s asking.

“You don’t know?” Spikes asks, genuinely perplexed.

“I…”

Words catch in her throat. What can she say? That her only two sexual experiences ended quickly and with her left alone in bed? That catching Spike with his girlfriend in the flesh held more passion than she’d ever thought actually possible?

Before she can begin to reply, Spike speaks again. “Yeah, it can. Not always that way and not always perfect. But with the right…” Spike shifts uncomfortably, his eyes briefly darting away from her. “’Course it can.”

“Oh.”

Buffy looks away. In an unspoken agreement, they turn without another word and head to their homes.


	2. Chapter 2 Pt. 1

**Chapter 2 Pt. 1**

**-:-**

Buffy stares up at Lowell House, her gaze fixed on a dimly lit second floor window. Unease coils in the pit of her stomach but the innate stubbornness that is Buffy Summers refuses to let her double back to her dorm. She’s come here for a very good reason, after all.

 _Which is what, again?_  her mind prods, still itching to turn back to her dorm.

Which is…right.  _Words_. There are words to be said to Riley. Important ones. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the not-coward’s way, which is the best way for any good Slayer. With that in mind, Buffy steels herself and marches to the front door of the frat house.

When she reaches for the doorbell, the door swings open. “Buffy?” Riley says, surprised.

“Riley! You answered the door….I mean, opened. I would’ve needed to knock for you to,” and Buffy realizes she’s getting rambly, so she ends, weakly, “answer.”

“Uh, yeah. I was just heading out to see you, actually.”

“You were?”

Riley smiles and motions her to come inside.

Buffy steps in, rubbing her arm. “Seems quiet.” Usually there would be music playing in one of the rooms or laughter echoing through the walls.

“Yeah, everyone else is out.” He doesn’t elaborate where, and Buffy doesn’t have to ask to know where the rest of the boys are. Riley clears his throat. “That’s uh, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Let’s sit down for a bit.”

Buffy follows Riley into the living room and he gestures for her to sit on the sofa.

She settles carefully beside him. The awkward tension between them is nothing new, but Riley wanting to talk unexpectedly is. He’s clearly worked himself up to say something, and Buffy has to give credit where it’s due—Buffy’s well aware she’s not been the easiest person to talk to these last few weeks.

Riley takes a deep breath. “Things have been a bit uneasy between us for a while, huh.”

“Kinda,” Buffy agrees with a strained smile. It has been.  _Very_ strained, very—

Oh. He’s breaking up with her.

“The way I see it, there can’t be a relationship without trust. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Yep, total break up-age. Buffy’s curling up inside, another name to add on her short list of boys that inevitably ditch her. This wasn’t her intent for coming here, which is the funny part—she’d wanted compromise with Riley. What that compromise would be Buffy hadn’t clued in yet, but she’d been willing to try. What with…everything she’s been considering, and after certain things she’s still bleaching from her memory, it seemed like the right thing to do. Now it seems like it was for naught.

Despite this, there’s a part of Buffy that can’t help but feel relief. Relief that she doesn’t have to agonize over this anymore. That she doesn’t have to pretend that—

“I’ve thought a lot about what you said, Buffy. So I’ve arranged a private meeting for you with Professor Walsh.”

 “You  _what_?”

Buffy’s jaw drops. Riley turns on the sofa to face her and takes hold of her hands. “You were right. You’re not military and I shouldn’t expect you to be cool with the way we operate. So I figured, maybe if you got to chat with the Professor about all the questions you have, it might help? And that way you’d have trust in the Initiative, and in turn…” Riley shrugs helplessly.

 _And in turn, trust Riley_. Buffy takes a shaky breath. “Wow. You’ve really thought this through.”

“I have. I want to be with you, Buffy. I really do.”

He’s looking at her so hopefully it makes her heart clench.

“Okay.”

Beaming, Riley cups her jaw and kisses her.

**-:-**

Understanding Professor Walsh’s logic is like trying to compete in an MMA fight with both hands tied behind Buffy’s back, blindfolded, only to find out it’s not even an MMA fight but actually a chicken coop where she’d been flung—and Buffy realizes the metaphor in her head has gone on too long when Walsh clears her throat. Loudly.

“Sorry.” Buffy tries not to wince.

“I asked if you understand what I’m trying to say,” Walsh replies with exaggerated patience in the cool way she regards Buffy.

“In that you’re doing work to help people, even if it doesn’t come off that way—human good, demon bad. Yeah, I got the picture.” Buffy leans forward where she sits across from Walsh with a desk between them. “You still haven’t answered  _why_  you’re experimenting on demons.”

Walsh balks. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown fond of them? And as the Slayer?”

Buffy narrows her eyes.

Since her chat with Willow and Spike’s ex-girlfriend Leda, Buffy’s bullshit-o-meter was reinstated when it came to the Initiative. It’s almost laughably easy to see Walsh trying to deflect and distract Buffy. To Walsh’s credit, Buffy likely would’ve fallen for it a few weeks ago.

“Let’s try that again.” Buffy’s expression hardens. “What is the Initiative’s goal in capturing and torturing the demon population?”

“Torturing?”

“I’ve seen your labs, Professor. ‘Humane’ isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Some would think animal testing isn’t humane, but look how far science has come because of it.”

“True. But there are laws for that kind of research,” Buffy nods with a slight shrug. “You? You’ve set up shop in Sunnydale, grabbing whatever you can find with no one to answer to. You have behavior modification chips and soldiers who can take on full-sized demons that no one but a Slayer should be able to handle.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are.” Walsh says with taunt in her tone. When Buffy doesn’t respond, Walsh’s face grows tight. “Get to the point, Summers.”

Buffy levels Walsh with an unwavering stare. “Control only lasts as long as you have power. And you might have the demons, this town, and your soldiers under you control Professor, but power? True power?” Buffy smiles. “I have it. You don’t. I’d remember that, if I were you.”

Buffy lets herself out of Walsh’s office without waiting for a reply. It comes as no surprise to her when she finds Riley waiting outside Walsh’s office for her.

“So how’d it go?” Riley asks eagerly. “Did she clear things up for you?”

Buffy stops, her fingers twitching lightly. “Like crystal.”

**-:-**

Buffy has not touched alcohol since the caveman beer incident, but tonight she thinks she should make an exception. An exception that has been exacerbated due to the laundry list of things that continued going wrong.

Namely, Riley and sex.

Sex with Riley. The horizontal tango, the beast with two backs—the thing Buffy has been waffling on for weeks and weeks because whenever she thinks of it, whenever Riley’s tongue is doing nice things inside her mouth as his hands wander south, there is only one image burned in her mind.

And it is  _not_  sex with Riley.

Something in her halts. It makes her hesitate, makes her spine stiffen just noticeably enough for Riley to pull away in confusion. “Don’t you want to?” he finally asked last week, with a look so hurt that Buffy could only glance away, cheeks burning in shame.

And then today.  _Today_. It was the same as always—her in his bed, stripped to their underwear, hot and heavy and passionate just until they approached the Real Thing; the take-off-your-panties thing to have naughty touchies. And then of course, because Buffy’s subconscious is a ruthless bastard, the Memory That Must Not Be Named flashed in her mind (as it always would by that point).

Only this time Buffy’s brain did something different.

It imagined that the man hovering over Buffy was not Riley.

It imagined that her hands were woven through pale locks, not brown—the body on top of her was lithe and built, not lumbering and muscly—the lips pressed against hers were cool and eager, not hot and needy.

It made Buffy moan loudly and her hips jerk, clawing desperately at the bedsheets.

Riley had gotten excited.

Buffy had been mortified.

Which leads to where she is now—in the back of Sunnydale’s most lucrative 24 hour video store, sneaking behind the curtained partition and eyeing several rows of pornos.

Her baseball cap is pulled tightly over her eyes in case someone recognizes her here, but luckily not many folks are cruising for rentals tonight. Nope. Just the town’s Slayer.

Buffy picks two at random with somewhat respectable covers, one which reads  _Jurassic Pork_ and the other  _The (Se)X-Files_. Buffy doesn’t bother mixing her rentals with a regular movie—no point trying to deny what she came for—and heads to the front of the shop. Fortunately, the guy who swipes the cassette covers is so colossally bored he doesn’t so much as glance at them.

Her dorm room isn’t equipped with a television and VCR and Buffy would rather eat her own head than risk watching it in the student lounge, so Buffy heads to her house instead. She debates the entire time whether she should go in the front door or sneak straight to her room. Only when she sees the living room light on and the faint glow of the television screen through the drawn curtains does Buffy make her decision.

Sneaking up her room it is.

Buffy slips inside quietly, carefully stepping where she knows the floorboards won’t creak. Everything is where she last left it, including the mini T.V. sitting across the bed with a built-in VCR. Swallowing thickly, Buffy powers it on and turns the volume a step above zero.

“Alright, what’ll it be first...” Buffy rummages through her bag and pulls out the two tapes. She purses her lips. “Maybe something closer to my day job?” She pops  _The (Se)X-Files_ out of its cover and pushes the tape in.

Butterflies swim around her belly as Buffy settles before the television. God, what has she come to? Renting  _porn_? Watching it while her mother was downstairs?

No, nope, there will be no thinking about her mother right now. This is important. It is the answer to her sex life and by god, Buffy will watch a hundred pornos if it means she will know why she can’t stop thinking about The Memory.

“Ugh! Of course the guy before didn’t rewind the tape.” Buffy grumbles as credits roll on the screen the second she hits play. It takes another minute to rewind to the beginning. Buffy holds her breath, fingers trembling.

She hits play.

A myriad of expressions cross Buffy’s face—confusion, boredom, cringing at the terrible dialogue. Jesus, do people actually enjoy this kind of thing? Do men really think all blondes have tits like that?

Then, porn-Mulder’s clothes come off.

It is happening. Right in front of her, less than two feet away from her irises. Porn-Scully’s getting the pounding of a lifetime, the two of them hidden away in secret with shadows and fog machine effects, not entirely unlike The Memory That Must Not Be Named. They’re in porn-Mulder’s office, folks walking obliviously just outside his door. Anyone could walk in.

A move happens that makes Buffy’s head tilt. “You know, I think I can actually bend like that…”

Buffy watches. And watches. She fidgets a bit, unable to deny it’s getting her hot. The tape ends faster than she anticipates and Buffy nearly shouts, “What, that’s it?”

Unsatisfied with the very thorough scientific research happening in her bedroom, Buffy pops in  _Jurassic Pork_.

She watches.

Watches some more.

She rewinds the porny bits a few times and rewatches them.

When the credits roll and the movie ends, Buffy pushes the eject button and replaces the tape in its cover with numb fingers.

The porn is…porn. Not good, not terrible. She is definitely aroused though; hard not to. The troubling question lingers in the back of her mind as Buffy puts both tapes back in her bag.

The entire time, throughout both films, there is still only one thing that goes through her mind. No matter how nice the writhing bodies looked or sounded, Buffy does not and cannot feel anything except one very damnable thing.

It haunts her to no end, and Buffy spends a very long time sitting on her bedroom floor, lost in thought.

**-:-**

“Buffy, are you sure you’re alright?” Giles asks for the third time.

Buffy glares at him from where she leans against the wall. “Ask me again, Giles, and we’ll find out.”

Xander chokes down a snort and clears his throat. Short-tempered Buffy is not one that comes out often, but when it does the Scoobies generally know to tread lightly. Giles however, in all their years, has never cared to adhere to that.

“Forgive me if I show concern when my Slayer has been glaring at the upholstery for the last half hour,” Giles replies dryly, setting his glasses on the dining table. “I would’ve thought you’d take an interest as it pertains to the Initiative.”

“I already told you,” Buffy mutters, “Riley doesn’t know anything. He literally thinks he’s just part of a military op. And Professor Walsh practically excommunicated me from any Initiative intel. We’re at a dead end.”

“Not according to the Parkland Woods area,” Xander pitches in. “Anya and I came across three dead Polgara demons last night.” Xander leans back against the dining chair importantly. “Each of them was missing an arm.”

Buffy frowns. “The last time I went slaying with the commandos, Professor Walsh asked us to keep the Polgara demon alive. Specifically to keep the arm intact. You don’t think…”

“That they captured three, got chop-happy, and dumped the bodies in the woods?” Willow offers, cringing a little as she shrugs. “It’s a safe guess.”

Buffy pushes off the wall angrily. “This is insane. She can’t just butcher demons as she likes and experiment on them like—like—”

“Like bloody animals.”

Buffy’s head whips to the door where Spike has entered. He’s leaning against the door frame, unscathed from the dying rays of sundown.

“I didn’t know Spike was invited.” Buffy gives Giles a hard look.

“I didn’t,” Giles says mildly. “But he must have pertinent information, i-if he’s here.”

“Matter o’ fact, I do.” A corner of Spike’s mouth ticks up when his eyes meet Buffy’s.

Buffy looks away quickly. “I doubt we need it.”

Xander and Willow glance at each other in that infuriating way again and it only serves to piss off Buffy even more.

Spike snorts and saunters forward, patting down his pockets to fish out a pack of cigarettes. “Maybe Slayer’s right. Should leave you to it and suss this one out yourselves.”

“Orrr maybe you tell us what you know first? Anything related to the mini Polgara massacre last night?” Xander asks helpfully, giving Buffy a meaningful stare when she shoots Xander a dirty look.

“Yes, do tell. And you can’t smoke in the house.” Giles adds.

Rolling his eyes, Spike settles in front of a window and unlatches it open, pointedly smoking out and away from the dining table where they all sat.

Spike looks at Buffy again. This time she doesn’t immediately look away, and she realizes he’s waiting for her to say something. She can’t tell if it’s for his own amusement, or—no, she does know. It is always for Spike’s amusement.

Buffy ignores Spike and resumes boring a hole in Giles’s upholstery again.

“Right. According to the blokes at Willy’s, there’ve been heavy night raids the last two weeks.”

“We already knew the commandos go demon-hunting at night,” Buffy says shortly. “Is that all?”

“No that’s not bloody all. Two Jejuna demons were found outside the city dump. Mutilated.”

“Jejuna demons?” Giles asks, his tone surprised. “They’re fairly harmless, aren’t they?” Giles stands and retrieves a book from his shelf, rapidly flipping through the pages until he finds one with a drawing of a lumpy looking demon cowering against a rock. Giles traces a finger along the inscription underneath. “Sewage dwellers, mostly; minimal threat to humans. I can’t imagine why the Initiative would want them.”

Spike shrugs, taking a drag. “They’ve a tough hide, that lot does. Sells for a pretty penny on the market.”

Whatever Spike is trying to imply, it sinks in for Willow first. “Mutilated how?” Willow asks warily.

Spike lifts a finger and traces it slowly across his face.

“Um.” Xander swallows nervously. Willow looks sick.

“I don’t get it.” Buffy frowns.

Spike stares at her. “Flayed, Slayer.”

Buffy recoils, looking between Spike and Giles for—she doesn’t know what for, but Giles knows things, and surely this isn’t something that anyone would  _do_  anymore?

Giles only meets her stare with equivalent repulsion, and Buffy’s heart sinks.

She starts pacing. “This isn’t right. We have to do something.”

“Buffy…”

Buffy whirls around. “What? Giles, what? Are you going to say that they’re not human so they don’t count? That being tortured and  _flayed_  doesn’t apply when it’s done to demons?” Giles opens his mouth to say something but Buffy doesn’t stop. “It’s one thing if they’re hurting people and I need to step in; it’s something else entirely when—god, Giles, this isn’t right and you know it!”

“I know, Buffy.” Giles’s voice is patient, and very, very soft. “I was only going to say, I have no idea how to stop them. They’re a government program stationed here. We’d be fighting the law.”

Buffy doesn’t answer. She doesn’t catch Spike staring at her or she would have been unnerved at the intense look in his gaze, the cigarette between his fingers dangling over the ledge of the window as he takes in the Slayer as something new.

“No,” Buffy say finally, returning her attention to Giles. “No, that’s not entirely true, is it? This is Sunnydale. No one, not law enforcement or military, has ever lifted a finger to stop the things that I take care of every single day. They’re still trying to pass off everything as animal attacks or gang-related PCP.” Buffy shakes her head. “If the commandos were remotely interested in the good of the people, new vampires wouldn’t be rising every other night at the same rate as before.”

“What does that mean, though, Buff?” Xander asks her.

Buffy’s mouth forms a grim line. “It means I am the law, Xander. I’m going to stop them, and they can’t do a thing about it.”

“Which leads us back to the ‘how’,” Willow sighs, slumping in her chair morosely. “They already won’t let your near the Initiative base anymore, and I can’t help but feel that it’s my fault.”

“No, Willow.”

“If I hadn’t talked you into—”

“If you  _hadn’t_ ,” Buffy emphasizes, swiftly cutting Willow off, “I would still think the Initiative was doing God’s work.”

“We’ll figure something out.” Xander rises from his chair and walks to where Buffy stands, patting her shoulder. “We always do. This one might be a bit of a hard code to crack, but I’m sure—”

“Has everyone here gone completely sack of hammers?” Spike’s drawling voice cuts through the air. Four sets of eyes turn to the vampire leaning against the window sill, who purses his lips and lets out a stream of smoke. “Are you all going to ignore the very easy solution to this problem?”

Xander raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms. “And what would that be, Evil Dead?”

Spike tosses the cigarette out the window and turns to face them. He nods at Buffy. “All Mata Hari here has to do is sweet-talk her honey into getting her back in the Initiative’s good graces, then dismantle the sods from the inside.”

“That is  _not_ happening,” Buffy scowls at Spike. “Riley is an innocent. He doesn’t know about any of this.”

“An’ why’s that? If he’s such a trustworthy bloke why haven’t you told him the truth? Can’t the both of you work together on this?”

Buffy’s mouth opens but that’s as far as she gets. Her mind scrambles, a dozen different defensible excuses coming to mind but none which make sense. Least of all to herself. “I…”

“Sh…she can’t do that to him,” Willow comes to Buffy’s defense, looking aptly worried despite her own unconvinced look. “It-it would be—”

“The right thing to do.”

“No! It’ll be like using Riley, won’t it?”

“Not if she’s telling him the bleeding truth.” Spike’s voice hardens. “I could give two figs about that wanker but he’s your only shot.” At their unconvinced silence, Spike shakes his head disbelievingly. “So you’d rather continue lettin’ him taking orders from that mad bint, not knowing what he’s doing?”

 Silence rings through the Giles’s dining room for a several moments.

Tentatively, Giles meets Buffy’s eyes. “Spike raises a fair point, Buffy. Perhaps telling Riley would prove beneficial.”

They all look to her expectantly. Buffy feels cornered, instinct rearing its head and wanting her to end this discussion and go. She forces the thought down and examines the hard truth in front of her.

She finally breaks her silence. “He loves his job. He loves serving the military. It gives him purpose,” Buffy replies quietly. “If I tell him, I need to make sure I have proof that his entire belief system while working in Sunnydale has been wrong.”

“W-we can work on that,” Willow says quickly. “With, you know, the brainstorming and donuts tradition. We’ll come up with something. A-and it really might help, telling Riley. He deserves to know who he’s working for.”

Xander nods emphatically. Giles closes his book and gives Buffy an encouraging smile.

Her eyes land on Spike. His face is unreadable as he stares at her.

Chewing her lower lip, Buffy nods.

**-:-**

Spike falls in step with her minutes after leaving Giles’s house.

“What do you want, Spike.”

Spike shrugs. “Saw you walkin’. Thought I’d join along.”

“You thought wrong.”

Spike gives her an odd look. “No need to be brassed. Thought we established we were talking buddies now during our last tiff, yeah?”

“Talking, not  _walking_ ,” Buffy hisses and speeds up her pace.

 Spike ignores her and matches her pace stridently. “Could also do with some protection from your boys, should they be wandering about.”

 “They’re not my boys.”

“Are dating one, though.”

“That’s…” Buffy glances away, jaw tensing. “That’s different. And we’re done here.”

Spike balks a bit. “What bug flew up your skirt tonight, Slayer? ‘M supposed to have tried pissing you off first before you bite my head off.”

Buffy stops abruptly. Spike pauses and turns his head to look at her, frowning at the odd look she’s giving him.

“What?”

Buffy doesn’t hear. She’d been angry with herself and now she’s angry with him. Angry for daring to turn up at Giles, forcing her to look at him, and causing a series of questions to hurtle to the forefront of her mind. Questions that have been plaguing her since the porno thing.

But that’s not what this is about at all.

_Just do it. Get it over with._

Buffy looks at him.  _Really_ looks at him. She forces her gaze to turn critical. His eyes are first—clear and blue, like a reflective pool of water that glitters in the dark. Out here at night the color is muted, but she can see—can remember—how nice they actually look.

“Slayer?”

Buffy ignores him and glances up. The hair isn’t her type; the gel work alone would be hell on anyone who didn’t want their hair to fall out along with the bleaching, but then again for Spike she doubts it’s a problem. It’s not ugly, though, and if she actually looks closer she sees it’s styled. It fits the motif Spike’s going for.

So yes, fine, he has pretty eyes and okay hair, but other than that…well. The bone structure of his face is kind of nice, too—not in a handsome way! A unique way. An unusual sight in among California locals, that is all. There are features, slight as they are, that could be considered nice, not that Buffy is looking. Not at all.

She’s definitely not looking at his mouth, full and frowning, nor at the apple of his throat that bobs when her eyes fall on it. Or the way his black shirt clings to his chest. Would it be fitted over his arms? What do his arms really look like without layers of leather concealing them? She’s only ever seen him with his coat or the red button up shirt he’d worn on Thanksgiving. She supposes there  _was_ the day he borrowed Xander’s Hawaiian print shirt, but Buffy hadn’t paid attention then. Now, though…

She’s been staring too long.

Buffy’s eyes flit up to Spike’s. He’s watching her, an odd stillness about him. Watching her watch him. Buffy’s heart pounds.

“Uh.”  _Way to be articulate, Buffy_. A slow smirk starts curling the corner of Spike’s mouth. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

Spike quirks a brow. “What am I thinking?”

“Thoughts that are not true. Very not true.” Buffy picks up her pace again and strides away from the smirking vampire trailing after her.

“Stare a bloke long enough, pet, and he’ll start thinking all sorts of things.”

“I wasn’t staring; I was thinking.”

“’S that what they’re calling it now?” Spike’s tongue curls against the roof of his mouth.

Buffy rolls her eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

“Shouldn’t throw stones, pet. Some’d say a Slayer eyeing a poor vamp like that is sacrilege.”

Buffy finally slows down enough to glare at Spike. “I was thinking how someone who brags so much about being the Big Bad got caught so easily by a handful of humans.”

The glimmer in Spike’s eyes dies, and his jaw hardens. “Caught and escaped,” Spike growls quietly. “You don’t see any other demon breaking free of that shithole. No one else lived long enough.”

A slight pang tightens Buffy’s chest as Spike strides away from her, pissed off. Guilt swarms inside her belly, and for reasons inexplicable to her, Buffy catches his arm. “Sorry. That was…not something to make fun of. I’m sorry.”

A needling voice in Buffy’s mind asks her why she’s apologizing to him, the same Spike who’d tried ripping her throat out only a few months ago. Buffy pushes that voice down and offers Spike a sincere look.

“You really are a bitch tonight, even at your Watcher’s.” Spike jerks his arm out of Buffy’s grasp, pinning her with an angry glare. “What is it, Slayer? Can’t find any other satisfactions so you work ‘em out on me?”

Buffy’s teeth gnash as she struggles to control the urge to insult him again. “I just said I was sorry.”

“Yeh,” Spike’s lip curls in a snarl as he turns away, only to round on her furiously. “You lot, you haven’t the slightest clue what they’re like. Haven’t seen it, have you? Easier to laugh at the poor vamp with a shock collar ‘round his fangs.”

“We asked you what happened, Spike,” Buffy says heatedly. “You were the one being all Mister Tight-Lipped when we tried asking you.”

“So you could put me down once you got what you wanted?” Spike looks away, snorting.

“Giles told you we wouldn’t do that.”

Spike gives her a withering look. “Like I could trust you.”

Buffy laughs incredulously. “Like I can trust  _you_? Two months ago you tried killing me in the broad of daylight, and yet I still let you in when you came crawling to us for help. As usual.”

Spike’s jaw works furiously, and for a moment Buffy thinks he’ll try lashing out on her. Only he doesn’t; his hands remain firmly by his sides and his chip stays unfired. “They’re evil bastards, Slayer,” Spike says, finally. “You’d do well to remember that when you’re with Soldier Boy.”

“He’s not like that.” The words are automatic. “He’s a good person. With a really good heart. If he knew what was really going on, he…” Buffy shakes her head. “He would do the right thing.”

“Best get on that, then.” The anger has left his voice. His hands make agitated checks over his duster until he fishes out another cigarette. Lighting it swiftly, Spike takes a quick drag and exhales. Just like that he’s calm again, staring at her in an all-too-knowing way. “Before your next shag, preferably, so’s to not muddy things up more’n they are.”

Buffy glances away. “Right.”

Spike goes still.

“No.”

Her eyes drag back to his. Spike’s smiling, half-disbelieved but mostly amused. Buffy’s caught in his gaze like a deer in headlights. “You still haven’t shagged him?”

“Goodnight, Spike.” Buffy wrenches her eyes away from Spike’s and starts walking again. God, how long as she been trying to get home?

“Does he not have…?” Buffy looks at Spike sharply and gasps at his gesture.

“He has! He does so have, not that it’s any of your business,” Buffy bites out.

“Then why not?”

“I’m not having a discussion about my sex life with you, Spike.”

“There’d need to be one to discuss, pet.”

Anger ignites inside her. “Just because I don’t go picking up girls every other day at the club and screw them into the ground doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

“Never said there was something wrong with you, ‘specially if you wanted to pick up girls,” says Spike, hiking an eyebrow. “An’ I don’t do that, either. I’ve a girlfriend.”

“Of the week,” Buffy snaps.

Spike tilts his head. “Are you keeping track of who I date?”

“No.”

“Because if you were, you’d know I’m still seeing the same girl you saw me—”

“SHH! You swore you wouldn’t talk about that that again,” Buffy whispers threateningly.

“—at the Bronze with,” Spike finishes, though the gleam in his eye tells her he got what he wanted anyway. “My, don’t we have a dirty mind?”

Buffy clenches her jaw. “Riley and I are fine. We’re perfect. That’s all you get to know.”

“Mm. An’ he’s right behind you, love.”

Buffy’s head whips around and it takes her a moment to catch him in his camouflage gear.

“There’s my cue,” Spike mutters as he makes for the shadows. Buffy watches him go, then glances at Riley again. One turn of his head and he’d see Buffy.

Buffy, she who has been avoiding Riley since yesterday’s incident.   

Spike makes a surprised grunt when she clambers next to him in the foliage he’s ducking behind. “What the hell’re you doing, Slayer?” Spike hisses under his breath.

“Shut up.” Buffy gives him a hard look. She ignores Spike as he stares incredulously, before peering at the commandos in the distance. They watch with bated breath as the soldiers finally turn down a different street, blending into the night.

Buffy lets out a slow, even breath, then straightens.

“’Perfect’, eh?”

“Whatever.” Buffy brushes her clothes and steps away from him. Tonight has already been rough but this, this is the last push she needs. Her voice trembles slightly as she glares at Spike. “You just can’t leave it alone, can you? You ridicule me for ‘prying my dimpled knees’ and now you’re tickled I’m not getting laid. Joke’s on me. I get it! Buffy’s a loser, poor loser Buffy.”

“Slayer…”

“Has sex once: causes the apocalypse! Has sex twice, publicly humiliated for being dumb enough to fall for the Nice Guy act. I’m not allowed to have any sort of actual human emotion, right? I’m not allowed to make choices or mistakes or have  _sex_  without my friends and my enemies having a goddamn public forum about it.”

Buffy pants a little, emotion and pent up energy prickling inside of her restlessly. Spike watches Buffy quietly, still holding onto the cigarette he’d lighted minutes ago.

“Got it all out, then?”

Exhaling softly, Buffy deflates. “Yep.”

“Right.” Spike takes in a slow drag, and in an unspoken agreement they start walking again. “You know what your problem is, Slayer?”

Buffy rolls her eyes heavily. Of course he’ll just go right into attacking her character again. He’s good enough at it, she supposes.

He doesn’t wait for her to respond. “You care too much about what other people think.”

Buffy bristles. “No I don—”

“Ah-ah, you had your bit. Now you listen to mine.” Despite herself, Buffy closes her mouth and stares at him expectantly. Spike blows out a puff of smoke and shakes his head. “Y’don’t care what anyone thinks of the Slayer. Doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. You care too sodding much what folks think of Buffy Summers. I’d even wager you live by it.”

“You are so off-base.”

“Yeah?” Spike stops in front of her. “If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t feel a sting of shame for shagging that clothead. You wouldn’t remember the exact words I used to hurt you.” Spike shrugs carelessly, bringing the cigarette to his lips again. “S’not your fault for wanting a shag, even if the blokes you chose were morons.”

“But you said it.”

Spike scoffs. “I said it because I knew it would get to you, not because I meant it. Was tryin’ to off you, remember?”

Buffy folds her arms under her chest. “Hard to forget.”

“’M guessing your chums gave you a hard time after the first go, yeah?”

A bitter laugh escapes Buffy’s throat. “I get it, Spike. But this isn’t something I can fix. It’s just the way it is. Me not caring—”

“Is confidence you sorely lack,” Spike tells her bluntly. “You’ll be a hell of a lot happier when you sort that out. And a hell of a lot stronger.”

Buffy absorbs his words slowly. She gives Spike a dubious look. “Are you…giving me advice?”

Spike snorts. “Right, that’ll be the day.” She’s looking at him strangely now, and Spike frowns. “What?”

Buffy waits a long moment. She won’t meet his gaze anymore, but the words come unbidden. “I want to. I wanted to.” Buffy lifts her eyes to stare at Spike’s. “There’s something wrong with me. And I don’t think it will ever fix.”

Spike’s mouth parts in surprise. He watches Buffy go, standing there long after she’s left.

**-:-**

Riley’s hand is gentle on her lower back as he leads her to the dance floor. The song is slow and the beat is strong, easy enough to fall into a rhythm and sway against each other.

“Aren’t you glad we came out tonight?” Riley asks over the music.

Buffy smiles up at him. “Definitely.”

He managed to track her down and smooth over the awkward tension that shouldn’t have stretched out as long as it did. He’d been worried that he hurt Buffy during their last makeout-slash-foreplay with the way Buffy had bolted out of bed. Guilt twisted up inside of her when she heard that; it could not have been further from the truth.

She still hasn’t brought up the Walsh thing or the Initiative thing. They’d just started reconnecting and she was in a happy place. She doesn’t want to ruin it just yet.

Buffy wraps her arms around Riley’s neck and shifts closer, pressing her face against his chest. They sway slowly to the music, everything starting to drift away from her mind. It feels a little bit like before; that sense of normalcy Buffy thinks she needs.

When she shifts her head to look around the dance floor, she catches sight of a platinum blond head through the crowd.

She must be staring at him long enough for him to sense her. Spike lifts his head away from his girlfriend—the very same she saw in his crypt—and their eyes connect.

Buffy’s heart thuds a little faster in her chest when Spike grins slowly, then dips his head and kisses the girl pressed against him. Deeply enough for Buffy to blush and look away.

It takes several beats for her to recognize what’s racing in her blood and singing her nerves. The moment she does, a calm comes over her. Buffy pulls away.

_I want that._

“Buffy?” Riley frowns, confused.

Smiling, Buffy links her fingers around his and draws him out of the Bronze.

She doesn’t know how long it takes to get to Lowell House, only how each step on the staircase to his room creaks knowingly. She remembers the sound of her clothes slipping from her skin and landing softly on Riley’s bedroom floor. How hot Riley’s breath was on her throat, her mouth, her nipples.

“Are you sure?” Riley asks. He means it too, holding himself just inches from her folds. She knows he would stop again if she said the word.

“Yes.” She swallows his grin as their mouths meet and he sinks inside her.

**-:-**

Riley’s soft snores fill the air as muted light streams through his bedroom window and moonbeams cross over Buffy’s skin.

Her body feels pliant and warm. The heady rush of bringing Riley here has long faded but the sounds of their lovemaking still rings in her mind. They’re weird moments to remember, of all the things Buffy should probably remember more.

Buffy’s eyes trace over the arbitrary lines on the ceiling tiles. She considers waking Riley up and trying again, but the thought ends the moment it begins. He should get a good sleep.

Buffy lifts her hand and the moonbeams flit against her fingers. She waves them slightly, watching the light play along her skin. She wonders if Spike is fucking his girlfriend now. She wonders if he’s doing the explosive kind or the soft, gentle kind—she wonders if he even does the latter.

He probably does. She can’t imagine Spike being the kind person to not do every single thing humanly or inhumanly possible, just because he can.

Moonlight caresses her skin, and Buffy arches into it before drifting to sleep.

**-:-**

Buffy has to clamp her hand over Willow’s mouth to keep her from squealing.

“Was it good? Tell me everything,” Willow whispers excitedly as Giles and Xander argue over donut preferences. The Scooby meeting is in a lull right now and Buffy wasted no time in talking to Willow.

“It was sweet,” Buffy tells her. Willow is visibly trying not to burst with excitement, though the massive grin is a dead giveaway. “I wanted to tell you when I got back to the dorm but you weren’t there again.”

An unsure look flickers across Willow’s face. “Yeah, I-I’ve been staying a friend’s. I’m so sorry, Buffy, I should’ve been there,” Willow says sincerely.

“No, it’s fine. Really. I probably wouldn’t have known what to say.” Buffy shrugs.

Willow’s brow furrows. “W-well, was it alright? Are-are you okay?”

“Totally and completely okay,” Buffy reassures her. “It was sweet. Nice, really nice. Much like Riley.” Buffy laughs a little. “It helped that he was still there when I woke up in the morning.”

Willow makes a small noise and rubs Buffy’s arm. “You’ve got yourself a keeper, lady,” Willow declares, all cute and official-like. Buffy tries to smile.

Spike doesn’t turn up for the Scooby meeting that day, and for some reason Buffy is relieved.

**-:-**

Sweat cools on their skin as Riley draws inane patterns along her back. She’s curled into his side, her body is still wired and raring to go but knowing it would have to stay that way for a while. It makes Buffy feel restless.

“Can I ask you something?” Buffy murmurs.

Riley kisses the top of her head. “Anything.”

“Do you know what they do with the demons once they’re captured?”

 A few beats of silence pass between them. Riley’s fingers pause briefly on her back, then start up again.

“Not really, no,” Riley finally answers. “My job is to stop and retrieve, or occasionally take out the more dangerous ones. It’s not part of my job to know what they do, but I know it’s entirely for science and for the greater good.”

Buffy’s eyes shutter closed. The words could not have been more spoon fed, though it’s hardly his fault.

“Do you think of demons as people or animals?”

A small pause. “Neither.” Riley rears his head back a little and Buffy looks up at him. “Where is this coming from?”

Buffy lifts a shoulder. “I just wanted know.”

“Demons are demons, Buffy,” Riley says carefully. “You know better than anyone what threat they pose to us.”

“Believe me, I do. Some are genuinely hellspawn that should never see the light of day,” Buffy replies agreeably. After another pause, though, she continues. “But some are…some are fine. Just a little different, like having scaly skin or, you know? And they’ll show up as a demon on a radar but that doesn’t mean they’re necessarily evil.”

“What is it you’re trying to say?” Riley frowns at her.

Buffy licks her lips and braves meeting his eyes. “I’m saying, you and your team could be on these missions capturing demons whose only fault is they have a forked tongue and double eyelids, so they get cut up and brutalized. Doesn’t that distinction matter to you?”

“I can’t believe this. I thought you were okay with the Initiative again. You even spoke with Walsh,” Riley says shortly as he wriggles free of her and sits up in bed. Buffy follows suit, clutching the bedsheets to her body.

“I just want to know where  _you_ stand on it, Riley,” Buffy says softly. “Does it matter to you? Does the humanizing factor that some demons and half-demons have, matter to you?” Riley opens his mouth to respond but Buffy cuts in quickly. “Answer with just yourself in mind. What does Riley Finn think?”

Riley stares at Buffy for a long moment. He breathes a quiet sigh and rubs his hand against his jaw. “I guess it depends what kind of demon they were. If all they do is, I don’t know, eat grass all day, they’re not much of a threat.”

A grin splits across Buffy’s face. She leans forward on her knees and plants a kiss on his cheek. “I am so glad you feel that way.”

Riley grins back and pulls the sheets away from their bodies and rolls on top of her. His kisses are strong and passionate; his body is as well when he moves over and inside her. Buffy’s nails dig into his shoulders, gasping each time he thrusts in. The movements are hot, the sounds are hot, but god, there is something so wrong with her, so so wrong, so wrong. She bites her lip and presses her forehead to his shoulder, willing her body to love this.

A familiar prickle raises the hairs on the back of her neck. Buffy turns her face to the side and gazes at the bedroom window. The curtains aren’t drawn and the window is half open.

“Oh god,” Buffy moans, suddenly trembling with a heady rush of wetness that has Riley cursing and pulling her knees further apart. The tingling along her neck gets stronger and she knows it’s him, even if he’s only passing by. There’s somebody else with him, but Buffy is with somebody else too, so it means very little.

The smell of smoke filters through the bedroom with the next gust of wind. Crying out, Buffy grabs the headboard and convulses.

She doesn’t notice when Riley comes or when he rolls off of her. “Wow,” he pants, grinning.

Buffy nods idly, staring at the window as her body comes down. The tingles down her neck is gone. She barely notices when Riley nods off to sleep.

**-:-**

Spike’s smoking in the courtyard outside Giles’s home when Buffy arrives. He nods when he sees her and crushes the cigarette under his boot.

“Were you waiting for me?” Buffy asks.

Spike lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “No point goin’ in otherwise.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, so she doesn’t. “Did you find out something?”

“Yeh. Better get inside an’ let your chums know.”

Spike is unusually reticent. Buffy goes ahead and turns to the door, ringing the bell. Once inside, Spike doesn’t waste any time.

“My buddy Clem overheard two soldiers last night. They raided an Empath demon community off of Center Street.”

“Near the Magic Shop?” Willow asks, her voice troubled.

“Yeah. Summat about harvesting what was needed and dumping the rest along the riverbank.”

Dread pools in the pit of Buffy’s stomach, but it’s Giles who speaks first. “When is this to happen?”

“Tomorrow night. Midnight, likely.” Spike gives Buffy a pointed look.

“Buffy, this is your chance,” Willow says urgently. “Give Riley the proof he needs so he sees what the Initiative is actually like. Then dismantling it from the inside will be so easy.”

“They’re building something,” Buffy says quietly. She looks at her friends with certainty. “The Polgara arms. The Jejuna skin. Who—who knows what other parts they’ve already collected that we don’t know about. And now they took down a group of Empath demons…to harvest a part I’d rather not think about.”

“Building what, like a super soldier?” Xander frowns at her questioning look. “You know, like Steve Rogers? Captain America?” They all stare blankly at Xander and his eyes bug out. “Bucky Barnes?  _Nothing_? Really, who are you people?”

“Just get to the ‘splainy part, Xan,” Willow says impatiently.

“They were regular soldiers who got this like, super serum that beefed them up and made them practically invincible and live forever—except here they’re using demon parts and other science-y stuff we don’t know about. They’re piecing together powerful parts of demons and making a super soldier. Or, uh, Frankendemon?”

“Why on earth would they do that?” Giles wonders aloud.

“Same reason anyone does anything, Watcher,” Spike retorts. “‘Cause they can.”

“They’re making a weapon.” Xander realizes. “And if they’re tagging demons with behavioral modification chips while they’re at it, I’d say they’re making an army.”

“Of demons they can control,” Willow concludes.

They all look at Spike.

Spike rolls his eyes. “Bloody—if they could control me, don’t you think they’d use it to force me back to their base and turn myself in?”

“Good point,” Xander agrees, sighing with relief.

“Guys, focus,” Buffy says firmly. “We need to stop it before their science experiment becomes reality. Willow,” Buffy turns to her friend. “I need a full map of Sunnydale’s underground and the original blueprints of Lowell House.”

“On it,” Willow nods.

“Xander, do you still remember the military stuff?”

“Like it was yesterday,” Xander smiles broadly.

“Good. You and Giles find the military base  _not_  run by the Initiative and swipe as much radar tech as you can get your hands on.”

“Uh, sure Buff, but the last time I got in it was mostly because of Cordelia,” Xander admits.

Buffy purses her lower lip, thinking. “Could you take Anya?”

Xander snaps his finger. “Anya, right! Yeah, she’ll totally go. Weapons get her hot.”

“Bloody wonderful,” Giles mutters under his breath. “And what exactly will I be doing in this venture?”

Buffy gives him a wide-eyed stare. “You’ll be driving. A-and doing the all the smart planning stuff to break in.”

“Terrific,” says Giles mildly.

Finally, Buffy turns to Spike. “Spike. Do you remember at all where you escaped from the labs? You got out somewhere, right?”

Spike shoots an unsure look at Buffy before shaking his head. “I was starved and delirious, pet. Only remember running…and a tunnel I got out from in some backwoods.”

“That’s better than nothing. We’re going to try and find it after we stop by the riverbank to check it just in case.”

She doesn’t wait for him to answer. Buffy walks out of Giles’s home and as she expects, Spike follows after her after a beat.

“’S quite a plan you’ve got goin, Slayer.” Spike finally breaks the tense silence as they walk.

“You’ve got a better one?” Buffy throws him a hard look.

“No,” Spike replies.

They walk for a few more minutes before Buffy stops abruptly. She waits for Spike to turn and face her.

“The Empath demons…” Buffy glances at Spike unsurely. “Was your ex-girlfriend one of the people they took?”

Spike’s expression is unreadable when he responds. “She lives on campus, not on Center Street. I doubt it.”

“Oh. Okay.” Awkwardly, they resume their pace. “This might take some time. I hope your girlfriend knows you won’t be back for a while.”

Spike gives her a sidelong glance. “I don’t have a girlfriend right now.”

Buffy’s brow creases. “Really?”

Spike glares at her.

 “Right.” Buffy clears her throat, ignoring the uptick in her heartbeat. “If you were at the base underneath Lowell House and you escaped through a tunnel to the woods, my guess is the tunnel is somewhere west of here. Maybe a mile out?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll have a look after we stop by the river.”

Spike grunts noncommittally, following her.

Buffy raises an eyebrow. “Someone’s moody.”

“Think I’ll skip the small talk tonight, thanks.”

Stung, Buffy presses her mouth in a hard line and ignores him for the rest of the walk.

- **:-**

Buffy can’t stop staring.

“Slayer.” Something shakes her shoulder. “Love, let’s go.”

Her stomach twists violently and her hands reach unbidden for the wet soil beneath her feet. Her knees give out but something catches her before she can make the fall.

“Slayer, we have to go.  _Now._ ” Spike’s voice is urgent. It’s him who’s keeping Buffy upright, cool hands digging into her biceps.

“It’s my fault,” Buffy says.

“No, it’s not.”

“I was too late. It’s all…”

“Not your fault. Just…damn it, Buffy.”

Strong arms wrap around her middle and suddenly Buffy’s feet leave the ground. Her body stiffens and her hands automatically grapple with the arms banded around her, but Spike is unrelenting as he physically draws her away from her latest failure.

“Get off me.” Her voice is strained. The pathetic quality of it wakes her up, and Buffy struggles violently out of Spike’s grasp. “Get off of me, get off, get OFF!”

With a grunt Buffy wriggles free and takes off, feet pounding beneath the grass. Then cement, then pavement, all the way to Riley’s bedroom.

**-:-**

Riley has to stop and wretch twice before Buffy gets him to Giles’s. He’s angry and passionate and betrayed, feeling all the horrible things Buffy’s been feeling since she saw the disfigured bodies of three Empath demons. They could have been anybody. They could have been her neighbors.

The talk is long and grueling, and Riley won’t leave so they all camp out in Giles’s living room for the night. Eventually Buffy gets up to patrol but Spike, who’d turned up again at some point in the night, tells her he’s already covered the evening’s patrol.

“That’s Hostile 17,” Riley says bluntly. He’s staring at Spike.

Spike tenses up. “Er…no, I’m a friend of Xaanderrs.” The drawl is horrendous and Spike rolls his eyes. “Bugger it. I’m your guy.”

“This is Spike,” Buffy says quickly. “He’s um…it’s a really long story, b-but he’s not bad anymore.”

“Hey!” Spike says indignantly. “What am I, a bleeding broken record? I’m bad, it’s just I can’t bite anymore. Thanks to you wankers.” Spike motions his head at Riley.

Riley turns to Buffy. “We’ve been looking all over the place for him—but you’ve known where he’s been all along.”

“It’s not like that,” Buffy says quietly.

“Then what is it like?” Riley shakes his head. “What’s he doing here?”

“Haven’t you heard a single thing we’ve said since you got here?” Xander snaps impatiently. “Your commando club Hannibal Lecter’d innocent people and you’re picking a fight with Buffy over Spike?”

Riley quiets at that and has the decency to look ashamed. Buffy catches Spike peering at Xander with something akin to astonishment.

Then the shaking begins.

“I don’t understand,” Riley asks the next day, sweat covering him from head to toe. His teeth chatter as he speaks. “Th-this has n-n-never happened to me.”

Giles is the first to put it together. “Has your routine changed in the last twenty-four hours?”

“Well, I’m sitting i-in a st-stranger’s house instead of m-my own,” Riley hisses through his teeth. “That and my v-v-vitamin and exercise regimen every morning.”

“What is it, Giles?” Buffy asks him worriedly.

Giles looks at Buffy uncertainly. “They appear to be…well, withdrawal symptoms.”

**-:-**

“Your boy’s on something hard to be tremblin’ so much,” Spike notes when Buffy steps outside. The night air is cool, a stark relief to the oppressive environment inside Giles’s home.

Buffy sighs, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve. “We think it’s how the Initiative got their soldiers strong enough to take down full-sized demons.”

“Not a bunch of regular ol’ Joes, then.”

 “No. I guess not.” Buffy glances at Spike. He’s not looking at her and for some reason, is bothers her. “About before…” That gets his attention. Spike cocks his head to look at her from where he’s leaning against the brick exterior of Giles’s house. “What you did, pulling me away from the riverbank…that was really good.”

Spike grunts and turns his head away. “Yeah, hero of the year, me.”

“Once Riley’s recovered and we have a solid plan on infiltrating and stopping the Initiative, I’d like you to be part of it.”

“As what?”

“Part of the team. To stop them. You’re strong and—”

“And they’re all human, Slayer,” Spike interrupts with a sardonic smile. “Can’t so much as look at them funny without falling over.”

“Then you can get the demons out.” Buffy looks at him earnestly. “Help with the whole prison break part. That’s still something.”

Spike stares at her for a long moment before turning to face her fully. “And the chip?”

“What about it?” Buffy frowns.

Spike’s jaw briefly tenses before he answers. “I want it out.”

She snorts out a laugh. When Spike continues staring at her, Buffy’s eyes go wide. “What you’re serious?”

“Yes I’m bloody serious.” Spike takes the four steps needed to be inches from Buffy. “This thing they put in my head, it’s not natural. I can’t live like this, Slayer.”

“You’re not natural or living.” The retort comes out before she can stop it. Buffy’s expression immediately softens. “Spike—”

“You bloody bitch.”

“I’m—”

“All that bollocks you’ve been spouting these weeks of helpin’ us was just that, yeah?” Anger flares behind Spike’s gaze. “You don’t give a shit. Bet it’s eatin’ you up inside having to save something you loathe.”

“That’s not it at all.”

“No? ‘M just lucky, then. You can fuck right off with—”

“You’ll start killing again,” Buffy says helplessly. They’re standing dangerously close now. “I can’t let that happen; you can’t expect me to set you free with good conscience!”

“Fuck your sodding conscience!” Spike snarls. “Can’t you see what it’s done to me? I can’t defend myself against a bloody toddler with a pencil. Can’t buy blood without hiding in the bloody bushes whenever—”

“If you didn’t have the chip you’d be killing people,” Buffy says heatedly, “and I’m sorry things are tough, Spike, I really am, but forgive me if I’m not jumping to give you that chance again.”

“I won’t. I bloody give my word I won’t.”

“You can’t promise that, Spike.”

“I can and I just did.”

“It doesn’t mean anything. I can’t trust your word.”

A series of emotions flash across his face, each more agonized and hopeless and livid than the last. “I can’t go on like this, Slayer. This isn’t living.”

A swell of guilt makes Buffy swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”

Something unsettling comes over Spike. The tension bleeds out from him, and Spike stares at Buffy impassively. “Right, then.” In the blink of an eye Spike reaches around her belt, plucks out her stake, and shoves it in her hand, lifting it to his chest.

“What are you doing!” Buffy snatches her hand away.

“Settin’ it up for you.  Go on.” Spike lifts his chin and stares down at her. “Do me in good.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? I’m not doing this.” Buffy tosses the stake far away.

“Yes you bloody will. This is on you now, sweetheart. ‘S what you want anyway.”

She tries to keep her voice from wavering. “I never said that.”

Spike laughs mirthlessly. “You want me alive, then? Fight the good fight alongside you, your pet neutered vamp? Get a li’l Scooby snack if I’m good?”

“So you just give up?” Buffy snaps bitterly. “Just like that? It’s ‘get the chip out or dust’?”

“Oh bloody shut up and do it Slayer!”

“No!”

His lips press together angrily, breathing hard. “Fine.  _Fine_.” Spike stomps to where the stake lies on the ground. “Do it my bleeding self, then, as always.”

Buffy lurches forward and grabs Spike before he can bend down. He scowls and tries moving out of her grasp.

“Get off me!”

“Make me!”

Spike snarls angrily when a particularly hard pull sends jolts of pain shooting across his head. “Fuck! Fucking hell, Slayer!”

“You’re not doing this,” Buffy says through tightly clenched teeth, her hands trapping Spike from moving. “I won’t let you.”

Spike glares at her with every bit of his existence. “I hate you.”

Buffy kisses him.

It’s a quick surge forward, a fleeting press of warm lips to cool. Spike goes still in her hold and stares at her when she pulls away half a second later.

Buffy’s eyes widen when it dawns on her what she’s done.

_I kissed Spike._

**I**   _kissed Spike._

Her hands release their grip on Spike’s arms and she makes to step back, but Spike doesn’t let her get that far. Cool hands grab her by the elbows and jerk her roughly against him, before Spike dips down to cover her mouth with his own.

Buffy moans and kisses back, and this does something good for Spike, making him growl and suddenly grip her around the waist. He practically slams her against the brick wall behind them.

Buffy gasps against Spike’s mouth, hands scrambling to pull him as close as she can. His lips are unrelenting and move with ease, as if they’ve been doing this from the start. He tastes even better than she remembers, sipping kisses from her mouth decadently one moment and frantically the next.

Buffy arches sensually against him, arms winding around Spike’s neck and reeling him in close. They pull apart briefly and Buffy gasps a heady moan, loving how Spike kisses her throat and nips at her jaw, loving the way his hips make tiny thrusts against hers. He kisses her mouth again and again and it’s not enough.

“Spike,” Buffy breathes.

Spike goes still against her.

Suddenly the hands holding her leave. Cool air replaces the body that’d been pressing her into the brick and Buffy blinks slowly, struggling to pull herself back. Spike backs away and starts digging in his pockets just as the door beside her opens.

Buffy manages to stifle a startled jump when Giles pokes his head out.

“Ah, Buffy. There you are. Is everything alright?” Giles glances at Spike’s retreating back as he stalks off.

Buffy straightens her shoulders and moves away from the wall. “Everything’s fine.”

Giles nods slowly. “Riley is asking for you. He’s seems a bit better now.”

Buffy follows Giles inside his house, numbness sinking in her heart. Riley’s reclined on a sofa and at the sight of Buffy, a tremulous smile tugs at his lips.

“Buffy,” Riley breathes. Buffy has to look away.


	3. Chapter 2 Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's been reading, thank you! And enjoy! x

**Chapter 2 Pt. 2**

**-:-**

The week passes as any before.

Riley returns to Lowell House that afternoon. He doesn’t stop taking the vitamins; if he’s going to help Buffy, he needs to remain strong and unsuspecting. Buffy doesn’t like it, but she supposes Riley has a point.

Xander, Anya, Willow, Giles, and Riley meet throughout the week to come up with a viable plan to stop what’s happening in room 314. Riley keeps them informed on the raids he goes on, but so far Walsh doesn’t seem to be very interested in collecting more demon parts. Buffy doesn’t know whether to be relieved or worried.

Spike has a new girlfriend.

Buffy doesn’t know if she’s  _actually_  a girlfriend or just a random conversation struck between two attractive people, but it’s still a girl that Spike is flirting with. She sees them on Friday night, the girl sitting at the bar and Spike leaning in familiarly to her. She’s sweet and pale and has strawberry blonde hair, and she smiles when Spike tilts his head to whisper something in her ear.

Sensing her gaze, Spike lifts his head and looks straight at her.

A warm arm settles around her waist. “I know he’s on the Nice List now, but seeing him here just gives me the creeps,” Riley mutters.

From where he’s sitting at the bar, Spike’s smirk broadens.

“He’s been coming here for weeks, Ri,” Buffy says, turning around to press herself against him. “If you’re seeing him now, it means he wants you to see him.”

Riley frowns. “That seems kinda lame.”

Buffy shrugs. Riley smiles slightly and leans down to kiss her.

She can feel Spike watching. Riley’s kiss is soft and lovely, and she pours herself into it.

When they pull away Riley holds her close, whispering softly in her ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

Inexplicable unease curls in her belly. Behind Riley, Spike is staring at her. Her eyes flicker to his before turning back to Riley.

“Sure.” Buffy’s smile is winning.

“I’ll let the others know we’re heading out.” Riley pecks her on the lips and goes searching for Xander and Willow.

Buffy chances a glance at the bar. Spike’s girlfriend is chatting enthusiastically, and Spike seems to have lost all interest in another staring contest with Buffy.

“Don’t,” Buffy says. The word is immediately drowned by the thrum of music. By the clench of his jaw, though, Spike has heard her.

He pulls his girlfriend from her seat and drags her to the back exit.

**-:-**

“Did you come, baby?” Riley asks, gasping for breath.

Buffy presses a tender kiss to his mouth. “Totally.”

**-:-**

Buffy is having a magnificent, productive, kickass kind of night.

It involves staking five fledges, stopping a green oozy demon from absorbing a middle schooler on the merry-go-round (who sniffled throughout Buffy’s stern warning not to go wandering around the park at night), and destroying an ancient artifact that could’ve summoned the next apocalypse—accomplished thanks to the hankering Buffy got for a chocolate malt and subsequently finding the shop overrun by chanting weirdos in robes.

It is, as Buffy would call it, a success.

A rare smile spreads across her face as she uses her straw to scoop a bit of chocolate from her cup. It’s a good night. One she hasn’t had in a while. There’s minimal vampire dust on her jacket and she’d saved the world in less than two hours— _two_! If she tries, she can probably make it  home in time to watch—

Buffy nearly collides into solid black.

“Wotcher, Slayer.”

Buffy’s good mood dissipates when she sees some chocolate malt spilled on her hand. “You almost made me drop it!”

Spike eyes Buffy’s drink mildly. “Should tread more carefully, then.”

“What are you, stalking me now on the main road?”

He gives her an incredulous look. “Wanna try that again?”

It is then that Buffy notices the large paper bag in his hand. A quick glance inside tells her all she needs.

“Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”

“Gladly.” Spike rolls his eyes and continues on, hefting the grocery bag of blood. Buffy glowers at his retreating back for good measure before heading in the direction to her dorm.

Where was she? Right—Buffy saving the world and having a nice night. If she walks fast enough she can make it back to the dorm just in time to watch some reruns in the student lounge. Do some homework, reminisce on all the ass-kicking she accomplished today, avoid—

“You’ve got some real nerve,” Buffy whirls back around, tenuous malt be damned. “You know I walk here at night.”

Spike stops at her voice and turns to look at her. “You walk everywhere at night.”

“And yet you keep trying to get in my way.”

Spike stares at her. Buffy holds her ground even as her mind—the small bit that’s still scrambling to think clearly—tells her she’s being more than a bit unfair.

“Right,” Spike replies slowly. “When y’get your knickers untwisted, you know where I’ll be.”

“Yeah, right.”

A scarred eyebrow ticks up and Spike begins to smirk. “No? You already forgot the crypt in Restfield where you watched me fuck my ex-girl’s brains out?”

Her fist connects with Spike’s nose before he can finish his sentence.

“You swore you’d never bring that up again,” Buffy says furiously. She’d expected Spike to do another fakeout like last time the subject was brought up, but tonight he can care less.

Spike chuckles, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “Can’t trust me, remember? Figure’d I’d prove your point for you.”

“You bastard.” Buffy hides the hurt in her voice with a scowl.

“Got nothing left to lose as you won’t actually stake me.” Spike shrugs. “A man has to find his pleasures somewhere.”

“Believe me,” Buffy draws out her stake, glaring at the cocky asshole before her. “I have no problem changing my mind.”

“Yeah?” The note in Spike’s voice is challenging. Buffy hikes a brow.

With whiplash speed, Spike wraps his fingers around her wrists and pulls her roughly against him. The sound of the paper bag hitting the pavement fills the air. A gasp slips past Buffy’s lips as Spike brushes his against the shell of her ear.

“That so?” Spike growls softly, and Buffy’s knees go weak. “Go on then. Stake’s still in your hand.”

“I can,” says Buffy, her breath stilted at the cool caress of his own breath against her skin.

“Then why’re you letting me get away with this?”

“I…” Buffy swallows hard as her eyes shutter at the feel of his lips on her skin. A thought suddenly dawns on her and Buffy’s eyes fly open. “You grabbed me.”

Spike cocks his head, amused. “Just realized that, did you?”

“No. You…” Buffy stares at his hands around her wrists. “Last time too. You—the chip—”

“Works,” Spike reminds, but the dark intent in his eyes makes her shiver. Buffy tries pulling from his grasp and his grip tightens painfully, but only for a second. Spike curses and flinches away, pressing the heel of his palm to his temple. “See?” he says tightly, gritting his teeth. “Perfect working order.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s the question, innit?” The heat returns in Spike’s gaze and he leans into her, his voice a low murmur. “Because you  _want_ it.” Their foreheads nearly brush. “More’n that, you like it. I can smell it all over you.”

Buffy recoils, staring at him with disbelief and a denial hot on her lips. Spike smirks for what feels like the hundredth time tonight when a denial doesn’t come. He reaches down and picks up the large paper bag, glancing at her briefly. “So long, Goldilocks.”

It takes Buffy a minute to will her legs to work and go home.

**-:-**

Buffy watches Riley settle in front of her with their coffees.

_This is all wrong._

The Espresso Pump isn’t too busy this time of day, and it’s a much-needed break from being Smiles McGee during her Psych lecture with Professor Walsh shooting death glares at her the entire ninety minutes. Riley had asked if she wanted to grab a coffee, so here she is. Her boyfriend, the guy who’s too sweet to realize he’s half a step from being a Manchurian Candidate, has no idea whatsoever that Buffy is too broken to feel anything for him.

It’s all wrong. It isn’t supposed to be like this. She and Riley should’ve been in love by now. Buffy should  _love_ him. They should be holding hands constantly with her stomach fluttering whenever Riley smiles at her. And it isn’t because he’s not good—god, he is good to her—but entirely because something is fundamentally wrong with Buffy.

Her feelings won’t make sense no matter how much she agonizes over it. Her sick fixation is the worst of it, because Buffy can’t get Spike out of her mind. He’s there with his stupid coat and stupid hair and she hates that he smokes but it wouldn’t be Spike without the scent of smoke infused leather. She hates that she wants him around. She hates that she wants him to touch her again. More than that though, she hates herself for wanting it at all.

She hates that she cheated on Riley, even if it was sucking face with a dead guy.

Buffy zones out on Riley as he talks, thinking about what it could be. The sex is alright. She sort of likes sex with Riley. But she also sort of likes hot fudge, and thinks maybe sex should mean something more than that.

No matter how hard Buffy tries her feelings for Riley won’t go back to what they were when they started dating. Switching gears, Buffy tries imagining dating someone else at school and hits the same roadblock over and over.

“And the weird thing was—”

“Do you think we should break up?”

Riley stops mid-sentence and gapes at her. “What? Buffy…what?”

Buffy stares at her clasped hands. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and…I can’t be what you want me to be. What I should be. It’s just not working.”

Riley’s eyes bear through the lid of his foam cup for a long moment. “I disagree,” he says finally. “I think you’re great for me.”

Buffy closes her eyes. “Riley…”

“No, hear me out.” Riley reaches across the little table and clasps her hands in his. “Right now we’re going through the hardest thing most people don’t have to. We’re stressed and you’re the Slayer, so you’ve got your stress plus the world’s.” Buffy’s mouth twitches, and Riley takes that as a good sign and smiles. “I want to keep trying. And if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. How does that sound?”

Buffy stares at their entwined hands.

“Alright.”

 _Coward_ , her mind whispers.

Buffy ignores it.

**-:-**

Giles begs off the next Scooby meeting for some very ooky Giles Time that Buffy still pretends doesn’t exist, so they convene at her house. Joyce is pleased to have the company, and she hugs Buffy for a full minute before letting go.

The plan to get Buffy inside the Initiative base is simple and aided with Riley’s commando-slash-boyfriend status. Her clearance is still there and Willow has cracked the code to whatever it is that’ll override the system and let them in during the takedown.

Buffy’s leaning against entry way to the living room, watching Riley regale some story from the military. Xander’s engrossed, ignoring Anya’s occasional poke for attention. Willow’s friend Tara sits closely next to her, a shy and incredibly sweet girl from UCS’s Wicca group. She’d made a joke earlier that was so corny Buffy decided then and there she’d protect Tara at all costs.

Then, Spike arrives.

Spike showing up is unexpected, considering she hadn’t told him they would be at her house. Strangely, Riley is the only one left who’s still cagey around him.

Spike barely nods at her before addressing the living room. “Can’t stay for long; got a date tonight.”

“How?  _How_  do you keep getting a girl?” Xander shakes his head with mild disgust. “I’ve been in this town my entire life and I’ve been with more bugs and mummies than girlfriends. No offense, Anya,” Xander says quickly.

“None taken. I’m neither bug nor mummy so it hardly applies.” Anya shrugs.

“I’m a right charming bloke, what can I say?” Spike grins. “An’ I’d hardly call this dating.”

“Are you still with Missy?” Willow asks. She turns to Tara. “She was really nice, you would’ve liked her.”

Buffy frowns.

“Nah, we split. This one’s Jenna; we met at—”

“Did you have a reason for dropping by?” Riley cut him off shortly.

Spike’s smile fades into an annoyed frown. “Yeah. Another Empath demon was found dead.”

Silence fills the living room.

“Where?” Willow asks.

“In her home this time. Died the same way as the others.”

“Are we sure the Initiative isn’t actually a bunch of zombies? Who else needs that many brains?” Xander grimaces.

“We can’t wait any longer,” Buffy says grimly. “Tomorrow, this ends.”

“Tomorrow,” Willow nods, solemn.

Spike turns to Buffy. “Slayer, a word.”

Riley looks like he’s about to say something, but Xander quickly goes, “Riley, you never did tell me how you escaped that cave in—what was it, Pawtucket?”

Buffy and Spike head to the foyer. Spike goes ahead and opens the door to step out onto the porch. Bright headlights of a passing car shine on the both of them as Buffy closes the front door behind her; a reminder of just how not private this really is. Even if her heart is doing an annoying flip about it.

“Twat,” Spike mutters, glaring at the car’s tail lights. “Usin’ high beams on a lit street?”

Buffy shrugs, shifting uncomfortably. A brief and awkward silence passes between them before Spike clears his throat. “Been givin’ it some thought. What you asked before; the answer is yes. I’m in.”

It takes Buffy a second to understand his meaning. “Oh.  _Oh_. Really?”

Spike nods, shrugging. “Yeah. Figured if I get the demons out, I’ll get to see at least one o’ them take a chunk out of a commando.”

Buffy rolls her eyes. “Charming.”

“Thought you might like that.” Spike quirks a smile. “Right. ‘M off.” He gazes past her to the living room window. “You an’ Captain Cardboard seem right chummy again.”

Buffy looks at the window distantly. “I guess.” Buffy glances down at her shoes. “You have a girlfriend again.”

He doesn’t reply, and Buffy lifts her eyes and her breath catches at the intensity with which Spike stares at her. It draws her to him, two cerulean portals that make everything else around her fade to nothing.

“We’re not going to talk about it, are we?”

Buffy finally breaks their gaze. “I don’t think so.”

Spike exhales a short sigh and nods at the house. “Didn’t see your mum inside. She out?”

“She’s upstairs. She wanted to give us some privacy.”

Spike nods. “Tell 'er I said hello.”

“Goodnight, Spike.”

“Night, love.”

-:-

A soft caress on her shoulder. “Do you want to…?”

Buffy stares at the hand before brushing it away. “My mom’s here, Riley.”

“Later then, at the frat.”

Buffy stares at the linoleum. “I have to catch up studying. Maybe some other time?”

Riley smiles tightly and pecks her on the cheek.

**-:-**

The takedown of the Initiative is, surprisingly, simple.

Willow shut down the main power gradually, so that the commandos stationed in Lowell House would not be alerted. Then the backup generators, then the mainframe. Willow probably could have shut down all satellite connections in Sunnydale if she tried, but she’d never admit to that kind of prowess no matter how capable of it she actually was.

Xander and Giles, equipped with stun guns, took down unsuspecting lab techs and stiff old men in white lab coats as they went. Anya kept the car running, Spike went straight to free the demons locked away, and Riley knocked down any stray soldier that happened to be in the base.

By the end of it, all of the base was taken over and Buffy was standing face-to-face with Maggie Walsh.

“You’ll never get away with this.”

Buffy frowns thoughtfully. “Actually, I think I already did. And is that your science experiment behind you on that table?”

Walsh makes to grab Buffy but Riley catches Walsh in a firm grip. The look of betrayal on Walsh’s face is almost laughable. Buffy strolls around the table and pulls back the sheet covering a truly grotesque humanoid man. A pang goes through her chest when she sees skin grafts, the arm, and stitches along its head.

“Even here,” Buffy says to Walsh, disgust thick in her tone, “you’re the monster.”

Buffy glances next to the body where medical tools are spread out on a small table. A large contraption sits in the center. “And  _this_  is the battery that’ll power your pet project. Right?”

“Stop! Don’t touch—!”

Buffy swiftly brings down her fist and crushes the battery into pieces.

“Now.” Buffy turns to Walsh slowly, pinning her with a deadly stare. A hundred demons gather behind Buffy with Spike at the helm. All snarling at Walsh, who's backing away slowly. “Get the hell out of my town.”

With shaking hands, Walsh reaches for her phone.

**-:-**

Winning,  _actually_ winning without a fight, without a surprise ‘gotcha!’ moment at the end of the night, thrills Buffy beyond belief.

The gang goes home. Spike heads to his crypt, and Buffy, with adrenaline still pumping through her, heads to patrol. When Riley starts following after her Buffy has to remind him that in order to remain inconspicuous to the rest of his group, he needs to go home.

“Buffy, I really don’t think it matters.” His hands sidle up her arms and he pulls her close. “We could work off some energy.”

“And we will,” Buffy grins, “later. With all the victory sex.”

Grinning, Riley heads to his dorm. Buffy runs to Restfield and is ready,  _so_  ready to dole out some justice to some very deserving baddies. There’s only a few fledglings tonight and Buffy lets him have it.

She’s laughing when it’s over, uncaring that dust covers her completely. A sharp snort gets her attention and not ten feet away, leaning against his crypt, is Spike.

“What’re you laughing at?” Buffy walks up to him.

“Never quite saw a victory dance like that after a slay.”

“It was a good slay,” Buffy replies, uncaring that she’s tilting her head back and shamelessly flirting. “You should’ve been there.”

“I was.”

“Then you know it was totally deserving of a dance.”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

A slow smile spreads on Buffy’s face. “We totally won today. No surprise death, no sword in a heart, no giant snake.”

“That we did,” Spike nods, stepping away from the crypt wall.

“I kicked so much ass.” She moves closer to him.

He takes a corresponding step. “That too.”

Another step. “A thank-you would be nice. You know, for saving the day.”

Spike’s hands close around her arms and Buffy’s around his waist, their lips meeting.

The last time had been passionate and warring and it had replayed in her mind for days on end. This time, Spike meets Buffy’s mouth with gentle caresses of his lips, tilting his head and kissing her deeply. The first roll of his tongue against hers is cool yet full of heat, and when he draws it away Buffy makes a small noise before chasing it with her own. She feels Spike’s muted laughter even as he opens his mouth wider for her, hands sliding from her arms to her back and pulling her snugly against him.

Their lips part with a sensual sound. Buffy wipes the shine of lip gloss from Spike’s lower lip and steps away. “You’re welcome.”

Spike licks his lips. “We gonna talk about this one, love?”

Buffy smiles at him wistfully, already turning away. “What do you think?”

**-:-**

“Riley. Riley, you’re doing again.”

“What? The demon almost had you. I wasn’t just going to let it charge.”

“I know, but I can handle it. I don’t want you putting yourself in danger because you feel like you have to.”

“It’s my job, Buffy.”

“And it’s actually mine, Riley.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Buffy exhales loudly. “You can only do this because of those pills Walsh made you take. Which you clearly haven’t stopped taking, despite the program being shut down. This isn’t natural and you’re going to burn out.”

Riley stops short. “I’m an elite military trained agent. I could do this regardless. I’m sorry but, take your powers away and you’re just a girl.”

Anger and hurt rocket through her body, and Buffy turns away, stalking out of the cemetery.

**-:-**

“Do you want to—?”

“No.”

**-:-**

Buffy sinks her stake in the fledgling and pulls her arm back, watching him become dust. She senses another coming behind her but before she can lift up her stake, Spike’s already gotten to it first.

“I could’ve taken care of him,” Buffy spits out angrily. “I’m the Slayer, I can take care of myself.”

Spike raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know that. Just wanted to do it. Thought I could help—”

“Well don’t. I don’t  _want_  help.”

“Right, then. If I see anything charging behind you, I’ll be sure to step aside.” Smirking, Spike turns and they head to the next cemetery.

True to his word, he sits atop a mausoleum shouting out nitpicking commentary on her fighting technique while Buffy slays a gang of vamps and two Grappler demons. She’s bloody and bruising, but the minute the last Grappler is dead, Buffy turns to face Spike with a splitting grin.

Spike grins back, chuckling, and jumps off the mausoleum. “Wanna grab a bucket of wings?”

“Hell yes.”

**-:-**

It becomes sort of a thing, after that. The slaying and then the Post-Slayage Treat. She doesn’t know why she never thought about that before, because while she’d gotten a chocolate malt that one time, she never would’ve thought to indulge in comfort food or a good bowl of ice cream. She says as much to Spike when they retreat from the Burger Palace, Buffy holding a quarter pounder with her name written all over it.

“Unimaginative, the lot of you,” Spike snorts.

Buffy notices Spike walking empty-handed. “Hey. You didn’t get anything this time.”

Spike shrugs carelessly. “I’d rather wait for the real thing at my crypt.”

“I thought you liked people food, though?”

“That’s not it. ‘S like…I dunno, eating a whole packet of crisps before supper. You’re still hungry and it doesn’t feel good later.”

Buffy thinks on this for a moment. “What about Willy’s? You wanna grab a drink to go? It’ll probably be something nicer than pig’s blood.”

Buffy still remembers the shock and subsequent warmth with which Spike had stared at her for the rest of their walk. It brings a smile to her lips while Riley makes love to her that evening.

**-:-**

Riley patrols with Buffy, despite her explaining how it might not be the best idea. At his furious glare, she drops it.

“Boy, this is such a rush every time.” Riley sinks in his stake square in a vampire’s chest.

“It sure is.” Buffy watches him hesitantly. “Ri, I think you should slow down. There’s no real rush and— _Riley!_ ”

A shriek gives out when Riley raises his stake over a young woman. The tingles along Buffy’s spine contradict that scared, cowering girl hiding behind a headstone.

Riley pauses. Buffy strides forward and pushes Riley back. “I told you this was a bad idea,” Buffy hisses before turning to the girl. She looked incredibly familiar—oh.

“What the hell d’you think you’re doing?” Spike snarls angrily, running forward and holding out his hand to the girl.

“She’s a vampire,” Riley scowls, though now he’s not entirely convinced. He glances at Buffy. “Right?”

Buffy looks over the girl whose arm is now wrapped around Spike’s. “She’s with him.”

“So that means she doesn’t get slayed?”

At her noncommittal shrug, Riley pulls Buffy aside and whispers, “Buffy, what is this? Can anyone get a free pass so long as they’re hanging around this guy?”

Anger rises up in Buffy, but before she can get a word out the girl pipes up, “No, I-I don’t eat people! I swear! I’m a vegetarian—sort of.”

“This is Jenna,” Spike says with a low growl, eyes flickering to Buffy’s. “She doesn’t kill.”

“And we’re supposed to take your word for that?” Riley crosses his arms, disbelieving.

“It’s true,” Jenna answers earnestly, looking like she’s two seconds away from weeping. “I h-hate the taste and I think I’m allergic to it, so I don’t…you know. Eat people.”

Buffy looks at Jenna skeptically. Jenna tries again. “Ask anybody. I take night classes at UC Sunnydale and—and, um, my house isn’t far, you’ll see my fridge…”

Spike’s eyes are boring through Buffy’s. Sighing quietly, Buffy tugs on Riley’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Riley opens his mouth as if to protest, but thinks better of it at the hard look she gives him.

When they’re nearing her dorm, Riley finally breaks his silence. “Unbelievable.”

Buffy glances at him. “What?”

“You.” He stops to face her. “What the hell was that, Buffy?”

“What was what?”

“Spike just has to  _look_  at you to get his way. You let them go.”

“What was I supposed to do, kill his girlfriend in front of him?” Buffy snaps.

“The fact that you’re even keeping him alive—”

“He’s not hurting anyone, Riley.”

“He has, though! He’s been murdering long before our grandparents were born and just because we put a chip in him, he gets a free pass?”

Buffy’s eyes narrow. “So it was fine to keep him alive when he was the Initiative’s lab rat? Now that he’s not useful to them I should put him down?”

“That’s different.”

“No it’s not.”

Riley scowls and shakes his head violently. “You don’t get it. You let that girl live—let all the escapees live—”

Buffy’s eyes round and she has to take a step back. “Are you kidding me right now? Should I have killed them after dealing with Walsh? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“No!” Riley says vehemently. “But some of them were really dangerous, Buffy, and I would know since I captured half of them! I just think considering it wouldn’t hurt—for all you know they’re out right now killing innocent people for their first taste of freedom.”

“I can’t believe this. You think I should have killed them right when they were freed. They were going to fight for me. You saw that.” Buffy shakes her head incredulously. “I’m starting to see why you were chosen for the Initiative program.”

Riley recoils. “How…how could you say that to me?”

“You are literally upset with me right now because I let a girl walk away with her life tonight.”

Riley lets out a frustrated groan. “You let her go based on her and Spike’s  _word_ , Buffy. It’s reckless and dangerous, and…and I’m sorry, but you’re not taking your duty as a Slayer seriously.”

A dangerous stillness comes over Buffy.

“I’m not taking my duty seriously.”

“No.” Riley stares at her with thinly veiled disbelief. “And frankly, this weird loyalty you have with Spike isn’t normal. What is it with you two? Suddenly you don’t hate each other?”

Buffy’s body quakes with repressed anger, mixed with guilt. “Yeah. Kind of how I suddenly don’t think all of demonkind are bad pennies without educating myself a bit. That some can change. Something…” Buffy laughs, the sound small and bitter. “Something you clearly haven’t.”

Riley stares at her for a long, long moment. “You know, I think you were right. This isn’t working.”

Relief spreads through her and Buffy closes her eyes, sighing. “Yeah. We’re both mad and…saying bad things. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

“No, Buffy. I mean us.”

Like the proverbial record scratching to a sudden stop, Buffy’s mind comes to a halt at Riley’s words.

“What are you saying?” Buffy says in a small voice.

“We’re incompatible. I tried working past it for so long,” Riley lets out a self-depreciating laugh. “I thought if I gave it my all, we could find a way to work. But there’s nothing left to work with and nothing’s changed.”

“That’s not true,” Buffy protests weakly.

“Really?” Riley laughs sharply. “Let’s face it Buffy. You don’t need me. You barely want me. You think I haven’t noticed how you mentally check out whenever we make love?” Buffy flinches, tears filling her eyes.

“It’s not because of you, Riley,” Buffy pleads, reaching for his hand. “It—it’s me, there’s something wrong with  _me_. I-I tried telling you.”

Riley tugs his hand away, looking pained. “Even this, now. Do you even  _want_ to be with me?”

Words catch in her throat. She’s a second too late, and Riley’s expression shuts down.

“Riley….Not like this. Please, not like this.”

The sight of her tears, now rolling steadily down her cheeks, makes him hesitate. “I’m sorry, Buffy.” He reaches over to pat her shoulder. “We’ll talk more tomorrow…but this is it for me.”

**-:-**

Once Riley is gone, Buffy doesn’t cry.

Her feet take her away from campus and to the street, straight to her house where the curtains are drawn shut and the porch light is on. Her mother’s car isn’t in the driveway, and Buffy feels very small without Joyce’s arms to hold her and put a temporary emotional bandage on her bruised heart.

She sits on the front steps, staring listlessly as night bleeds into midnight. At some point her hand holds up her forehead as she stares at her worn boots.

The soft snick of leather and the air moving around her are the only indications that someone has sat down next to her.

Buffy sits there with her eyes closed, hoping that if she ignores Spike long enough he’ll lose interest and leave. She doesn’t think she can withstand another emotionally harrowing conversation.

“I know you’re not crying, pet.”

Slowly, Buffy lifts her head to look at him. “What do you want, Spike.”

His throat bobs convulsively, though his expression betrays nothing. “Heard an argument. Thought I’d come and see you.”

Buffy bites her lip and looks away, staring into the darkness.

“Buffy.” Spike takes a short breath, working up his nerves. “Buffy, if...if you need…”

“You know what the sad part is?” Buffy looks at Spike. “In all my life, in all that I’ve had and lost, the best relationship I ever had was the four hours I was engaged to you.”

Her words visibly shake Spike to the core. His eyes widen with shock as Buffy goes on. “I felt…so happy, you know? I knew I was safe with you. And you loved me, and that this was permanent. That we got through what we needed to, to be in a place where we were picking out wedding things. It’s the best I’ve ever felt in my life and it was a spell. And I’m never going to feel that again.”

That gets Spike to frown. “Says who?”

Buffy smiles bitterly. “Can’t you tell? This is what it’s going to be like for me forever.”

Spike stares at her with an incredulous look. “Let me get this straight. One bloke calls things off with you and suddenly you’re a spinster?” When Buffy averts her gaze with a small shrug, Spike snorts. “You are completely off your bird.”

Buffy glares. “Right. Stupid Buffy. I don’t know why I thought you’d understand.” Buffy stands up and runs an agitated hand through her hair. “You don’t get it; none of you do. I’ve been trying to say this over and over that there’s something— _wrong_  with me.”

Spike stands, peering down at her. “What, then?”

“I can’t—it’s pointless. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Bloody try me.”

Something in the way he’s looking at her unlocks everything Buffy’s been holding back, and it tumbles out of her in a messy burst. “I can’t get myself to feel close to someone anymore. I’ve tried so h…hard, but it’s like a well dried up inside me. I can’t feel love like I used to. I couldn’t love Riley, couldn’t let him in. I went to see Angel in L.A. and—and—I felt  _nothing_ , Spike. I felt empty when I came back and when I started seeing Riley I thought maybe, maybe this could be it. Maybe this could wake me up.” She doesn’t realize she’s crying until Spike lifts his thumb to wipe her cheek. “But it hasn’t and it’s gotten h-harder and I hate…god, I’m so terrible. So terrible, I’m terrible…”

“You’re not terrible.” Spike’s arms come up to wrap around her and Buffy presses her face into Spike’s shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath. “You’re plenty of things, Slayer, but terrible isn’t it. Inconvenient for us demons, as you know.”

“I  _am_ terrible,” Buffy insists. She pulls away, sniffling. “I…god. I hated having sex with him.” Spike’s eyes widen fractionally as Buffy tries to explain. “He didn’t, you know, force me. I was a full and active participant whenever we did…but sometimes I hated the having it part. I hated that at the end of the day I’d find new ways to turn him down.” Buffy presses her face in her hands. “I’m a terrible person.”

It takes Buffy a moment to realize Spike is laughing.

Buffy recoils, her face crumpling with hurt and anger. “You asshole.”

“Oh, Buffy—love, I wasn’t laughing at you. I swear it.” Spike reigns in his smile and peers down into her eyes seriously. “You do realize what you’ve just described?”

“The complete and humiliating detail of my sex life?”

Spike snorts, glancing at the chipped nail polish on his fingers. “For one, you weren’t interested in Riley. ’Least not when it mattered.” He ignores Buffy’s scandalized scoff. “Two, an’ this is important. You had a lot of bad sex. Neither which, sorry to break it to your martyring heart, makes you a bad person.”

Buffy shakes her head emphatically, squeezing her eyes closed despite the dull spark of hope flickering in of her chest. “No. That’s not—it has to do with me not being able to feel. I’m broken, Spike.”

“Bollocks.”

“Every guy I’ve ever felt something for has left,” Buffy says desperately. “They all seem to know something in me is wrong. And…all that’s left of me is the Slayer. I need to accept that maybe I’m not meant to be loved.”

“ _Bollocks_.”

“Stop it! You’re not even listening to me.”

Spike steps in dangerously close and Buffy’s breath catches. “Y’know what it sounds like to me, Slayer?” Spike’s breath against her skin makes her shiver. “You’ve had a miserable string of boys in your life, and you want  _more_.”

She emits a soft moan when his teeth scrape along the shell of her ear. “More’n that, you left out one glaring detail.” Spike shifts back and smirks. “All that dead and broken passion you were yammerin’ on about doesn’t seem to apply to us.”

Buffy inhales sharply and finally steps away from him. “That’s…not the same thing.”

“No?”

No longer wishing to discuss this outside, Buffy walks up a step and opens her front door. “Nope, and we’re not going there.” She expects him to go, but instead Spike pauses, smirks at the doorway, and steps inside.

Buffy sighs heavily. “Spike, I’m serious. There’s nothing… _nothing_ for us. This feeling…”

“Is a feeling we both have.” Spike’s eyes flare as he watches her pace. “You think I haven’t felt it? We kissed twice, you an’ me.”

Heat flushes her skin as her mind helpfully reminds her just how good those kisses were. “It was wrong,” Buffy says firmly. “And I was…just working something out. Ever since…” Buffy blushes harder when Spike’s eyes darken with a predatory look, and he starts moving closer to her. Buffy steps away, in tandem with his approach.

“Ever since…?” Spike’s voice is soft as silk.

Buffy licks her dry lips and steps back again, until her back is firmly against the wall to the staircase. “You know.”

The corner of Spike’s mouth quirks.

“When you were…and I saw…” Buffy swallows hard. “It made me realize I liked that. Seeing that.” The gleam in Spike’s eyes is as if he’s struck gold and he closes the gap of space between their bodies. Buffy quickly holds up her hand before he can lean in. “And I think that’s why I feel this way about you, so it doesn’t count.”

“Oh Buffy,” Spike murmurs, cool fingers skimming down her arm. “It counts.”

Buffy’s eyes shutter when his fingers close around her hand, his thumb making a small circle on her palm. She doesn’t stop him when his other hand cups her jaw. Buffy gazes up at Spike, and for a moment it’s only that and only them.

Spike kisses her.

The way her body surrenders to it has Buffy breathless. Her arms wrap around Spike’s neck and he lifts her up, pushing her heavily against the wall with his hips. Buffy moans as his lips slide over hers, tantalizing her with his tongue and teeth and the exhilarating way their bodies mold together.

They break apart gasping, foreheads pressed together. Buffy stares up at Spike with wonder, tilting her head back.

“Oh,” Buffy says, panting. She looks over his shoulder, the coatrack, until she’s lost in thought with hundreds of images clicking together into one amorphous realization. “ _Oh_.”

Spike chuckles delightedly, nuzzling the side of her face. “Yeah, love. Oh.” 

Vaguely she thinks she’s never heard Spike laugh like that, an almost hoarse kind of glee. “So I’m not…”

“No.”

“And Riley’s…”

“A wanker. Who you din’t want to fuck.”

“Spike.”

“’S true and you know it.”

Buffy shakes her head dazedly. “But…”

“No.”

“And it’s not…?”

“No.”

“You’re a demon?”

“Are you askin’?” Spike starts laughing.

“No, I mean—”

“You know not all demons are bad, pet.”

Buffy gives him a hard look. “You’re an actually bad penny, though.”

“Yeh, an’ now I’m a good li’l boy scout.”

This time Buffy starts laughing, and Spike swiftly shuts her up in the best way.

**-:-**

Buffy remembers every step it takes to get to her bedroom. She remembers the way Spike looks at her when she licks a stripe along his sternum once she throws his shirt off. She remembers the way he undresses her—frantic and marveling, until his patience officially runs out and he tosses her on the bed.

“Look what we have here,” Spike pulls Buffy knees apart wide and curls his tongue against his teeth, “baby has a treat for ol’ Spike.”

Buffy giggles when he sinks his teeth teasingly along her thigh. He growls when Buffy reaches out and brushes her thumb over his cock, swirling the pearl of fluid along his slit.

“Keep at that an’ this’ll be over faster than your pretty parts would appreciate.”

“It was waving at me, Spike. I had to say hello.”

Shaking his head, he nips the back of her knee. When he reaches her glistening folds, flushed and pink with desire, he glances up at Buffy’s eyes before dipping his head down.

“Oh—OH.” Buffy lets out a shuddering breath as he licks her from bottom to top.  She feels Spike’s thumbs pry her pussy lips apart before teasing her sensitive opening. “You’re actually— _uhn_ —actually really into this.”

Spike stops and get this look in his eyes that gets Buffy immediately hot and throbbing, even more than before. She can’t tell if he’s angry or turned on—not that it matters. The second Spike moves his mouth over her and goes into town, Buffy can’t think about anything at all.

“Can’t feel desire, can you?” Spike slips a finger inside her, probing until he finds the spongy bit of flesh he’s looking for. Buffy whimpers when he curls his finger. “Can you feel me?”

“Oh god,” Buffy gasps when Spike massages her clit as he slips in another finger. His mouth drops to her breast, sucking delicately at a rosy bud. She feels something very big and explosive building inside her and Spike brings her closer by the second. From his hands and mouth alone, Buffy’s having the best time of her life.

“Can you?” His fingers twist.

Buffy struggles to remember his question. “I can. I—oh— _oh_ —can!”

Spike kisses her hard before removing his hand and replacing it with his cock. He draws back to look Buffy in the eye. “Good.”

Spike fills her in one thrust, sinking deeply in wet flesh. Buffy moans and arches, tensing at the pleasure mixed with delicious stretch. Spike holds himself still above Buffy, gasping as breathlessly as she is.

“Buffy…god, Buffy. So fucking warm. Gonna burn me up.” Spike presses his face into her shoulder.

Wrapping her legs around his hips, Buffy tilts her hips up. “Not yet you won’t.”

Snickering, Spike pulls away from her shoulder. “Minx.”

“Ass.”

“You like it.”

“Ugh, just do me already.”

Grinning, Spike lifts himself on his elbows and draws back, leaving just the tip inside her, before surging back.

Buffy lets out a shrill gasp, a tremble going through her. Spike does it again, and again, until he’s steadily pounding her into the mattress while Buffy meets him thrust for thrust and tugging at the bed sheets. She pulls him down for a deep kiss, uneven and imperfect but so, so good.

“Feel me fillin’ you up, love? Feel this?” Spike grabs onto the headboard and rolls his hips forcefully into Buffy’s. They moan loudly together.

“Yes! Oh god, Spike,” Buffy’s nails claw pink lines into Spike’s shoulders.

“Come for me now, love. I can feel you quivering,” Spike pants. His eyes are trained on her as his hand reaches down to swirl her clit with his fingers. Buffy shrieks and then convulses hard, her body trembling breathlessly against Spike’s. He doesn’t stop moving inside her, pumping slowly as he watches her, riveted.

Finally Buffy’s body goes limp. Spike kisses her mouth softly, smiling when they pull apart. Buffy’s body still trembles, a small gasp escaping her each time his cock drags along inside her flesh. The movements are steady and slow, until the pressure in her abdomen returns in sudden and sharp euphoria. “Holy— _Spike!_ ”

Buffy hears Spike chuckling as she comes down again. “You…evil.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called Holy Spike before.”

Buffy glares at him. “You are so toast, mister.”

“That so?” Spike ticks up a scarred brow.

Buffy doesn’t deign a response. Instead, she uses her thighs to flip them over, sinking down on his cock. Spike’s mouth drops with a gasping moan.

Buffy marvels at Spike as she rides him. The way his hands kneed her hips and slip over her belly, the groans he gives freely and the tight clench of his abdomen as he rolls his hips with hers. He’s deeper than before and Buffy’s loving this— _absolutely loving this_ —and in moments they’re two writhing bodies on Buffy’s queen-sized mattress. When Spike comes he trembles hard, cock jerking inside her as he pulls her hips as tightly as possible against his. A hard shudder goes through Buffy at the sensual feel of it, before collapsing atop Spike’s body.

Spike’s skin is warm beneath hers, holding the heat of their passion. When their breathing slows, Spike runs his hands through Buffy’s hair and lifts her head to face him.

“What’s the verdict, pet? Still think you’re too broken for passion?”

A coy smile spreads across Buffy’s mouth and she nibbles Spike’s lower lip. “Dunno. You might have to show me again.”

**-:-**

“Are you going to admit it now?”

Spent, Buffy flops over to her side to look at Spike. “Fine. Sex with Riley was…not good.”

“And?”

Buffy rolls her eyes. “And Parker.”

“And?”

“And that’s all we’re talking about,” Buffy glares.

“‘S okay to admit it, love. I know my grandsire in’t the best tumble in the hay.”

“So not talking about it, Spike.”

Spike exhales loudly. He turns his head to face Buffy, a lopsided grin on his face. “You like me.”

Buffy hides her smile, shifting onto her back.

“You  _like_ me,” Spike smirks into her shoulder as he drops a kiss on her skin.

“At least I’m broken up this time,” Buffy replies loftily. “You’ve got a vampire girlfriend’s heart to break.”

When Spike doesn’t reply, Buffy glances over at him. “What?”

“I don’t have a girl, Slayer.”

“Yes you do. That girl from tonight. Jenna?”

“Yeah, I know. Not a girlfriend.”

Buffy sits up on her elbows. “What is she?”

Spike rolls his eyes. “What, a bloke can’t have friends?” Buffy stares at him and he sighs. “We met at a show in town; found out she’s off the blood-on-tap shite. Was nice talkin’ to someone is all.”

Buffy frowns. “Seriously?” Spike nods. “Fine,” she grumbles, “I was the only technical cheater when we kissed. But they were both incredibly circumstantial and totally not a thing.”

“I’ll show you a thing.” Spike growls and suddenly rolls on top of her. “Let’s see if we can fuck away your past lovers.”

Laughing, Buffy welcomes Spike’s lips as he nudges her hips with hers.

“Not too tender?” he asks against her mouth.

“Mm-mm.” Buffy sighs with pleasure when Spike sinks into her. He kisses her again and god, she’ll never get tired of his kisses. They’re drugging and languid and so full of desire.

Their thrusts pick up speed, both of them gasping, when suddenly the front door opens.

They both freeze.

“It’s your mum,” Spike says, listening.

Buffy groans, covering her face her hands. “God, why. Why now?”

Spike shrugs lightly and goes back to thrusting inside her.

“Ah—Spike! We can’t!” Buffy stage-whispers, grabbing his shoulders. “What if she hears us?”

A slow, seductive smile curls Spike’s lips. “That’s right, Slayer. What if she hears?” Spike presses his temple against hers until they both tilt their heads to face the door. “Just that door between you an’ your mum. Unlocked, even. She could walk in. She could knock. Could walk down the hallway, go to her room. And you’ll have my cock inside you the entire time.”

Buffy bites back a groan, her clit throbbing harder. Spike grins and slowly starts moving again.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs has Buffy gasping, wetness seeping between their bodies. Spike pounds into her a bit when the footsteps grow louder.

A knock sounds on the door and Buffy inadvertently squeezes around him, hard. Spike’s eyes roll up and he shudders.

“Buffy?”

Spike drops his head to her neck and grabs the back of her knee, pushing her leg toward her chest. Buffy has to bite her lip not to moan loudly, and instead replies, “I’m here.” Another hard thrust, and her muscles flutter warningly around Spike’s cock. “I’m…sort of sleeping.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t expect you to be home tonight.”

Buffy’s eyes are transfixed on the door as Spike moves with her. He watches with her, smiling at the rapture on Buffy’s face. Suddenly his thumb starts applying speedy pressure against her throbbing clit and Buffy stops a shriek by biting down on Spike’s shoulder.

“Buffy?”

“Hah—I just, just—wanted to be home tonight. We’ll talk…” Buffy arches, and Spike licks a bead of sweat working its way down her throat, “in the morning?”

“Sure. Goodnight, honey.”

“Night.”

When they hear the sound of Joyce’s bedroom door closing, Spike gives two body-shaking thrusts and Buffy orgasms hard, Spike following her seconds later. They collapse in a trembling heap.

“You really do like that.” Spike mumbles against her breast.

Buffy runs her fingers through Spike’s unkempt hair. “Your fault.”

**-:-**

When Buffy wakes up it is early morning, sunlight pressing insistently against the closed curtains. An arm is wrapped around her and a weight behind her holds her in place.

Her body is wonderfully, deliciously exhausted. Spike had proved every single insecurity she held wrong with a corresponding orgasm, and even with her stamina Buffy was thoroughly spent.

This was new, though. Nice. Enjoying the person wrapped around her the next morning. Feeling desirable and passionate and, in some ways, loved. Feeling those very things back for the sleeping form behind her. Boy, was this going to be fun explaining to her friends.

She thinks of Riley and his promise of a talk today. Maybe he’ll expect Buffy to want him back. Maybe he won’t expect anything at all. As Buffy shifts around to gaze at Spike, she knows no matter what, she’ll have something spectacular to go back to.

Smiling, Buffy closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.


End file.
